•  - 


Monsieur  Grei'in 

Photogravure  —  From  an  Original  Drawing 


Illustrated  Sterling  edition 


The  Member  for  Arcis 


The  Seamy  Side  of  History 


AND  OTHER  STORIES 

BY 
HONORE  de  BALZAC 


With  Introductions  by 

GEORGE  SAINTSBURY 


BOSTON 
DANA    KSTKS  \    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHTED    1901 
BY 

JOHN  D.  AVIL 


A II  Rights  Reserved 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 


INTRODUCTION 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS: 

(Le  Diputt  d' Arch  ;  Translator,  CLARA  BELL) 

PART      I-   THE   ELECTION  -  I 

"        II.   EDIFYING    LETTERS      -  -      114 

"      III.   THE  COMTE  DE  SALLENAVAUVE  -  -     275 


PART   II 

INTRODUCTION     -  -      ir 

THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTOR  Y  : 

(L  'Envers  de  I '  Histoire  Conteinporine) 

FIRST  EPISODE  :  MADAME   DE  LA  CHANTERIE  -        I 

SECOND  EPISODE:  INITIATED    -  -    114 

A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA       ...  -     213 

(Un  Prince  de  la  Bokeme) 

A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS        -  -     251 

(Un   Homme  d'affaires) 
VOL.  16 — 1 


»../.  i 


IV  CONTENTS 

GAUD1SSART  II       -  .     273 

(Gaudissari  II) 

SARRASINE    -  .  -     285 

(Sarrasine) 

FACING  CANE  -     325 

{Facing  Cane) 

Z.  MARC  AS      -  -  -     341 

(Z.    Marcas) 

AN  EPISODE    UNDER    THE    TERROR  .  •     369 

(U»  Episode  sous  la  Terreur) 

INDEX  .  -     391 

(Translated  by  CLARA  BBLL  and  oth«rs) 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 


INTRODUCTION 

Le  Depute  d'Arcis,  like  the  still  less  generally  known  Les 
Petits  Bourgeois,  stands  on  a  rather  different  footing  from 
the  rest  of  Balzac's  work.  Both  were  posthumous,  and  both, 
having  been  left  unfinished,  were  completed  by  the  author's 
friend,  Charles  Rabou.  Eabou  is  not  much  known  nowadays 
as  a  man  of  letters ;  he  must  not  be  confused  with  the  writer 
Hippolyte  Babou,  the  friend  of  Baudelaire,  the  reputed  in- 
ventor of  the  title  Fleurs  du  Mai,  and  the  author  of  some 
very  acute  articles  in  the  great  collection  of  Crepet's  Poetes 
Frangais.  But  he  figures  pretty  frequently  in  association  of 
one  kind  or  another  with  Balzac,  and  would  appear  to  have 
been  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  scheme  and  spirit  of  the 
Comedie.  At  the  same  time,  it  does  not  appear  that  even  the 
indefatigable  and  most  competent  M.  de  Lovenjoul  is  per- 
fectly certain  where  Balzac's  labors  end  and  those  of  Eabou 
begin. 

It  would  seem,  however  (and  certainly  internal  evidence 
has  nothing  to  say  on  the  other  side),  that  the  severance,  or 
rather  the  junction,  must  have  taken  place  somewhere  about 
the  point  where,  after  the  introduction  of  Maxime  de  Trailles, 
the  interest  suddenly  shifts  altogether  from  the  folk  of  Arcis 
and  the  conduct  of  their  election  to  the  hitherto  unknown 
Comte  de  Sallenauve.  It  would,  no  doubt,  be  possible,  and 
even  easy,  to  discover  in  Balzac's  undoubted  work — for  in- 
stance, in  Le  Cure  de  Village  and  Illusions  Perdues — in- 
stances of  shiftings  of  interest  nearly  as  abrupt  and  of 

(ix) 


x  INTRODUCTION 

changes  in  the  main  centre  of  the  story  nearly  as  decided. 
Nor  is  it  possible,  considering  the  weakness  of  constructive 
finish  which  always  marked  Balzac,  to  rule  out  offhand  the 
substitution,  after  an  unusually  lively  and  business-like  be- 
ginning, of  the  nearly  always  frigid  scheme  of  letters,  topped 
up  with  a  conclusion  in  which,  with  very  doubtful  art,  as 
many  personages  of  the  Comedie,  and  even  direct  references 
to  as  many  of  its  books  as  possible,  are  dragged  in.  But  it  is 
nearly  as  possible  certain  that  he  would  never  have  left  things 
in  such  a  condition,  and  I  do  not  even  think  that  he  would 
ever  have  arranged  them  in  quite  the  same  state,  even  as  an 
experiment. 

The  book  belongs  to  the  Champenois  or  Arcis-sur-Aube 
series,  which  is  so  brilliantly  opened  by  Une  Tenebreuse 
Affaire.  It  is  curious  and  worth  notice,  as  showing  the  con- 
scientious fashion  in  which  Balzac  always  set  about  his  mature 
work,  that  though  his  provincial  stories  are  taken  from  parts 
of  France  widely  distant  from  one  another,  the  selection  is 
by  no  means  haphazard,  and  arranges  itself  with  ease  into 
groups  corresponding  to  certain  haunts  or  sojourns  of  the 
author.  There  is  the  Loire  group,  furnished  by  his  youthful 
remembrances  of  Tours  and  Saumur,  and  by  later  ones  down 
to  the  Breton  coast.  There  is  the  group  of  which  Alengon 
and  the  Breton-Norman  frontiers  are  the  field,  and  the 
scenery  of  which  was  furnished  by  early  visits  of  which  we 
know  little,  but  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  which  is  of  the 
first  importance,  as  having  given  birth  to  the  Chouans,  and  so 
to  the  whole  Comedie  in  a  way.  There  is  the  Angoumois- 
Limousin  group,  for  which  he  informed  himself  during  his 
frequent  visits  to  the  Carraud  family.  And  lastly,  there  is 
one  of  rather  wider  extent,  and  not  connected  with  so  definite 


INTRODUCTION  Xl 

a  centre,  but  including  the  Morvan,  Upper  Burgundy,  and 
part  of  Champagne,  which  seems  to  have  been  commended 
to  him  by  his  stay  at  Sache  and  other  places.  This  was  his 
latest  set  of  studies,  and  to  this  Le  Depute  d'Arcis  of  course 
belongs.  To  round  off  the  subject,  it  is  noteworthy  that  no 
part  of  the  coast  except  a  little  in  the  north,  with  the  re- 
markable exceptions  of  the  scenes  of  La  Recherche  de  I'Absolu 
and  one  or  two  others;  nothing  in  the  greater  part  of  Brit- 
tany and  Normandy;  nothing  in  Guienne,  Gascony,  Langue- 
doc,  Provence,  or  Dauphine,  seems  to  have  attracted  him. 
Yet  some  of  these  scenes — and  with  some  of  them  he  had 
meddled  in  the  Days  of  Ignorance — are  the  most  tempting 
of  any  in  France  to  the  romancer,  and  his  abstention  from 
them  is  one  of  the  clearest  proofs  of  his  resolve  to  speak  only 
of  that  he  did  know. 

The  certainly  genuine  part  of  the  present  book  is,  as  cer- 
tainly, not  below  anything  save  his  very  best  work.  It  be- 
longs, indeed,  to  the  most  minute  and  "meticulous"  part  of 
that  work,  not  to  the  bolder  and  more  ambitious  side.  There 
is  no  Goriot,  no  Eugenie  Grandet,  not  even  any  Corentin  or 
Vautrin,  hardly  so  much  as  a  Eastignac  about  it.  But  the 
good  little  people  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  are  represented  "in  their 
natural,"  as  Balzac's  great  compatriot  would  have  said,  with 
extraordinary  felicity  and  force.  The  electoral  meeting  in 
Madame  Marion's  house  is  certainly  one  of  the  best  things  in 
the  whole  Comedie  for  completeness  within  its  own  limits, 
and  none  of  the  personages,  official  or  other,  can  be  said  to 
suffer  from  that  touch  of  exaggeration  which,  to  some  tastes, 
interferes  with  the  more  celebrated  and  perhaps  more  gen- 
erally attractive  delineations  of  Parisian  journalism  in  Illu- 
sions Perdues  and  similar  books.  In  fact,  in  what  he  wrote 


xli  INTRODUCTION 

of  Le  Depute  d'Arcis,  Balzac  seems  to  have  had  personal 
knowledge  to  go  upon,  without  any  personal  grievances  to  re- 
venge or  any  personal  crazes  to  enforce.  The  latter,  it  is  true, 
often  prompted  his  sublimest  work ;  hut  the  former  frequently 
helped  to  produce  his  least  successful.  In  Le  Depute  d'Arcis 
he  is  at  the  happy  mean.  It  is  not  necessary  to  give  an  elab- 
orate bibliography  of  it,  for,  as  has  been  said,  only  the  "Elec- 
tion" part  is  certainly  Balzac's.  This  appeared  in  a  news- 
paper, L'Union  Monarchique,  for  April  and  May  1847. 

G.  S. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 
PART  1. 

THE  ELECTION 

BEFORE  entering  on  a  study  of  a  country  election,  I  need 
hardly  say  that  the  town  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  was  not  the  scene 
of  the  events  to  be  related.  The  district  of  Arcis  votes  at 
Bar-sur-Aube,  which  is  fifteen  leagues  away  from  Arcis; 
so  there  is  no  member  for  Arcis  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies. 
The  amenities  demanded  by  the  history  of  contemporary  man- 
ners require  this  precaution.  It  is  perhaps  an  ingenious 
notion  to  describe  one  town  as  the  setting  for  a  drama  played 
out  in  another;  indeed,  the  plan  has  been  already  adopted 
in  the  course  of  this  Human  Comedy,  in  spite  of  the  draw- 
back that  it  often  makes  the  frame  as  elaborate  as  the  picture. 

Towards  the  end  of  April  1839,  at  about  ten  in  the  morn- 
ing, a  strange  appearance  was  presented  by  Madame  Marion's 
drawing-room — the  lady  was  the  widow  of  a  revenue  collector 
in  the  department  of  the  Aube.  Nothing  remained  in  it  of 
all  the  furniture  but  the  window  curtains,  the  chimney  hang- 
ings and  ornaments,  the  chandelier,  and  the  tea-table.  The 
Aubusson  carpet,  taken  up  a  fortnight  sooner  than  was 
necessary,  encumbered  the  balcony  steps,  and  the  parquet  had 
been  energetically  rubbed  without  looking  any  the  brighter. 

This  was  a  sort  of  domestic  forecast  of  the  coming  elec- 
tions, for  which  preparations  were  being  made  over  the 
whole  face  of  the  country.  Things  are  sometimes  as  humor- 
ous as  men.  This  is  an  argument  in  favor  of  the  occult 
sciences. 

(1) 


8  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

An  old  man-servant,  attached  to  Colonel  Giguet,  Madame 
Marion's  brother,  had  just  finished  sweeping  away  the  dust 
that  had  lodged  between  the  boards  in  the  course  of  the 
winter.  The  housemaid  and  cook,  with  a  nimble  zeal  that 
showed  as  much  enthusiasm  as  devotion,  were  bringing  down 
all  the  chairs  in  the  house  and  piling  them  in  the  garden.  It 
must  be  explained  that  the  trees  already  displayed  large  leaves, 
between  which  the  sky  smiled  cloudless.  Spring  breezes  and 
May  sunshine  allowed  of  the  glass  doors  and  windows  being 
thrown  open  from  the  drawing-room,  a  room  longer  than  it 
was  wide. 

The  old  lady,  giving  her  orders  to  the  two  women,  desired 
them  to  place  the  chairs  in  four  rows  with  a  space  of  about 
three  feet  between.  In  a  few  minutes  there  were  ten  chairs 
across  the  rows,  a  medley  of  various  patterns ;  a  line  of  chairs 
was  placed  along  the  wall  in  front  of  the  windows.  At  the 
end  of  the  room  opposite  the  forty  chairs  Madame  Marion 
placed  three  armchairs  behind  the  .tea-table,  which  she  cov- 
ered with  a  green  cloth,  and  on  it  placed  a  bell. 

Old  Colonel  Giguet  appeared  on  the  scene  of  the  fray 
just  as  it  had  occurred  to  his  sister  that  she  might  fill  up  the 
recess  on  each  side  of  the  chimney-place  by  bringing  in  two 
benches  from  the  ante-room,  in  spite  of  the  baldness  of  the 
velvet,  which  had  seen  four-and-twenty  years'  service. 

"We  can  seat  seventy  persons,"  said  she,  with  exulta- 
tion. 

"God  send  us  seventy  friends !"  replied  the  Colonel. 

"If,  after  receiving  all  the  society  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  every 
evening  for  twenty-four  years,  even  one  of  our  usual  visitors 
should  fail  us — well!"  said  the  old  lady  in  a  threatening 
tone. 

"Come,"  said  the  Colonel  with  a  shrug,  as  he  interrupted 
his  sister,  "I  can  name  ten  who  cannot — who  ought  not  to 
come.  To  begin  with,"  said  he,  counting  on  his  fingers: 
"Antonin  Goulard,  the  sous-prefet,  for  one;  the  public  pros- 
ecutor, Frederic  Marest,  for  another ;  Monsieur  Olivier  Vinet, 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  3 

his  deputy,  three;  Monsieur  Martener,  the  examining  judge, 
four ;  the  justice  of  the  peace " 

"But  I  am  not  so  silly,"  the  old  lady  interrupted  in  her 
turn,  "as  to  expect  that  men  who  hold  appointments  should 
attend  a  meeting  of  which  the  purpose  is  to  return  one  more 
deputy  to  the  Opposition. — At  the  same  time,  Antonin  Gou- 
lard, Simon's  playfellow  and  school-mate,  would  be  very  glad 
to  see  him  in  the  Chamber,  for " 

"Now,  my  good  sister,  leave  us  men  to  manage  our  own 
business. — Where  is  Simon?" 

"He  is  dressing.'  He  was  very  wise  not  to  come  to  break- 
fast for  he  is  very  nervous;  and  though  our  young  lawyer  is 
in  the  habit  of  speaking  in  Court,  he  dreads  this  meeting  as 
much  as  if  he  had  to  face  his  enemies." 

"My  word!  Yes.  I  have  often  stood  the  fire  of  a 
battery  and  my  soul  never  quaked — my  body  I  say  nothing 
about;  but  if  I  had  to  stand  up  here,"  said  the  old  soldier, 
placing  himself  behind  the  table,  "opposite  the  forty  good 
people  who  will  sit  there,  open-mouthed,  their  eyes  fixed  on 
mine,  and  expecting  a  set  speech  in  sounding  periods — my 
shirt  would  be  soaking  before  I  could  find  a  word." 

"And  yet,  my  dear  father,  you  must  make  that  effort  on 
my  behalf,"  said  Simon  Giguet,  coming  in  from  the  little 
drawing-room;  "for  if  there  is  a  man  in  the  department 
whose  word  is  powerful,  it  is  certainly  you.  In  1815 " 

"In  1815,"  said  the  particularly  well-preserved  little  man, 
"I  had  not  to  speak;  I  merely  drew  up  a  little  proclamation 
which  raised  two  thousand  men  in  twenty-four  hours.  And 
there  is  a  great  difference  between  putting  one's  name  at  the 
bottom  of  a  broadsheet  and  addressing  a  meeting.  Napoleon 
himself  would  have  lost  at  that  game.  On  the  18th  Brumaire 
he  talked  sheer  nonsense  to  the  Five  Hundred." 

"But,  my  dear  father,  my  whole  life  is  at  stake,  my  pros- 
pects, my  happiness Just  look  at  one  person  only,  and 

fancy  you  are  speaking  to  him  alone — you  will  get  through  it 
all  right." 

"Mercy  on  us!  I  am  only  an  old  woman,"  said  Madame 


4  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Marion;  "but  in  such  a  case,  and  if  I  knew  what  it  was  all 
about — why,  I  could  be  eloquent!" 

"Too  eloquent,  perhaps,"  said  the  Colonel.  "And  to  shoot 
beyond  the  mark  is  not  to  hit  it. — But  what  is  in  the  wind  ?" 
he  added,  addressing  his  son.  "For  the  last  two  days  you 

have  connected  this  nomination  with  some  notion If 

my  son  is  not  elected,  so  much  the  worse  for  Arcis,  that's 
all." 

These  words,  worthy  of  a  father,  were  quite  in  harmony 
with  the  whole  life  of  the  speaker. 

Colonel  Giguet,  one  of  the  most  respected  officers  in  the 
GRANDE  ARMEE,  was  one  of  those  admirable  characters  which 
to  a  foundation  of  perfect  rectitude  add  great  delicacy  of 
feeling.  He  never  thrust  himself  forward;  honors  came  to 
seek  him  out;  hence  for  eleven  years  he  had  remained  a 
captain  in  the  artillery  of  the  guards,  rising  to  command  a 
battalion  in  1813,  and  promoted  Major  in  1814.  His  almost 
fanatical  attachment  to  Napoleon  prohibited  his  serving  the 
Bourbons  after  the  Emperor's  first  abdication.  And  in  1815 
his  devotion  was  so  conspicuous  that  he  would  have  been 
banished  but  for  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  who  had  his  name 
erased  from  the  list,  and  succeeded  in  getting  him  a  retiring 
pension  and  the  rank  of  Colonel. 

Madame  Marion,  nee  Giguet,  had  had  another  brother  who 
was  Colonel  of  the  Gendarmerie  at  Troyes,  and  with  whom 
she  had  formerly  lived.  There  she  had  married  Monsieur 
Marion,  receiver-general  of  the  revenues  of  the  department. 

A  brother  of  the  late  lamented  Marion  was  presiding  judge 
of  one  of  the  Imperial  Courts.  While  still  a  pleader  at 
Arcis  this  lawyer  had,  during  the  "Terror,"  lent  his  name 
to  the  famous  Malin  (deputy  for  the  Aube),  a  representative 
of  the  people,  to  enable  him  to  purchase  the  estate  of  Gondre- 
ville. Consequently,  when  Malin  had  become  a  senator  and 
a  count,  his  influence  was  entirely  at  the  service  of  the 
Marions.  The  lawyer's  brother  thus  got  his  appointment 
as  receiver-general  at  a  time  when  the  Government,  far  from 
having  to  choose  from  among  thirty  applicants,  was  only  too 
glad  to  find  men  to  sit  in  such  slippery  seats. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  5 

Marion,  the  receiver-general,  had  inherited  the  property 
of  his  brother  the  judge;  Madame  Marion  came  in  for  that 
of  her  brother  Colonel  Giguet  of  the  Gendarmerie.  In  1814 
Monsieur  Marion  suffered  some  reverses ;  he  died  at  about  the 
same  time  as  the  Empire,  and  his  widow  was  able  to  make  up 
fifteen  thousand  francs  a  year  from  the  wreck  of  these  fag- 
ends  of  fortune.  Giguet  of  the  Gendarmerie  had  left  all  his 
little  wealth  to  his  sister  on  hearing  of  his  brother's  marriage 
in  1806  to  one  of  the  daughters  of  a  rich  Hamburg  banker. 
The  admiration  of  all  Europe  for  Napoleon's  magnificent 
troopers  is  well  known. 

In  1814  Madame  Marion  in  very  narrow  circumstances 
came  to  live  at  Arcis,  her  native  town,  where  she  bought  a 
house  in  the  Grande  Place,  one  of  the  handsomest  residences 
in  the  town,  on  a  site  suggesting  that  it  had  formerly  been 
dependent  on  the  chateau.  Being  used  to  entertain  a  great 
deal  at  Troyes,  where  the  revenue-collector  was  a  person  of 
importance,  her  drawing-room  was  open  to  the  prominent 
members  of  the  Liberal  circle  at  Arcis.  A  woman  who  is 
used  to  the  position  of  queen  of  a  country  salon  does  not 
readily  forego  it.  Of  all  habits,  those  of  vanity  are  the  most 
enduring. 

Colonel  Giguet,  a  Liberal,  after  being  a  Bonapartist — for 
by  a  singular  metamorphosis,  Napoleon's  soldiers  almost  all 
fell  in  love  with  the  constitutional  system — naturally  became, 
under  the  Eestoration,  the  President  of  the  Town  Council 
of  Arcis,  which  included  Grevin,  the  notary,  and  Beauvisage, 
his  son-in-law ;  Varlet  fils,  the  leading  physician  in  the  town 
and  Grevin's  brother-in-law,  with  sundry  other  Liberals  of 
importance. 

"If  our  dear  boy  is  not  elected,"  said  Madame  Marion,  after 
looking  into  the  ante-room  and  the  garden  to  make  sure  that 
nobody  was  listening;  "he  will  not  win  Mademoiselle  Beau- 
visage;  for  what  he  looks  for  in  the  event  of  his  success  is 
marrying  Cecile." 

"Cecile  ?"  said  the  old  man,  opening  his  eyes  wide  to  gaze 
at  his  sister  in  amazement* 


6  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARGIS 

"No  one  but  you  in  all  the  department,  brother,  is  likely 
to  forget  the  fortune  and  the  expectations  of  Mademoiselle 
Beauvisage." 

"She  is  the  wealthiest  heiress  in  the  department  of  the 
Aube,"  said  Simon  Giguet. 

"But  it  seems  to  me  that  my  son  is  not  to  be  sneezed  at !" 
said  the  old  Colonel.  "He  is  your  heir;  he  has  his  mother's 
money;  and  I  hope  to  leave  him  something  better  than  my 
bare  name." 

"All  that  put  together  will  not  give  him  more  than  thirty 
thousand  francs  a  year,  and  men  have  already  come  forward 
with  as  much  as  that — to  say  nothing  of  position " 

"And? "  asked  the  Colonel. 

"And  have  been  refused." 

"What  on  earth  do  the  Beauvisages  want,  then?"  said 
Giguet,  looking  from  his  sister  to  his  son. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Colonel  Giguet,  Madame  Marion's 
brother — in  whose  house  the  society  of  Arcis  had  been  meeting 
every  evening  for  the  last  f our-and-twenty  years,  whose  salon 
rang  with  the  echo  of  every  rumor,  every  slander,  every  piece  of 
gossip  of  the  countryside — where  perhaps  they  were  even  manu- 
factured— should  be  ignorant  of  such  facts  and  events.  But  his 
ignorance  is  accounted  for  when  it  is  pointed  out  that  this 
noble  survivor  of  the  Imperial  phalanx  went  to  bed  and  rose 
with  the  fowls,  as  old  men  do  who  want  to  live  all  the  days 
of  their  life.  Hence  he  was  never  present  at  confidential 
"talks."  . 

There  are,  in  provincial  life,  two  kinds  of  confidential 
talk:  that  held  in  public  when  everybody  is  assembled  to 
play  cards  and  gossip,  and  that  which  simmers  like  a  care- 
fully watched  pot  when  only  two  or  three  trustworthy  friends 
remain,  who  will  certainly  not  repeat  anything  that  is  said, 
excepting  in  their  own  drawing-room  to  two  or  three  other 
friends  equally  to  be  relied  on. 

For  the  past  nine  years,  since  his  political  party  had  come 
to  the  top,  the  Colonel  lived  almost  out  of  the  world.  He 
always  rose  with  the  sun,  and  devoted  himself  to  horticulture : 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  1 

he  was  devoted  to  flowers ;  but  of  all  flowers,  he  only  cherished 
his  roses.  He  had  the  stained  hands  of  a  true  gardener.  He 
himself  tended  his  beds — his  squares  he  called  them.  His 
squares !  The  word  reminded  him  of  the  gaudy  array  of  men 
drawn  up  on  the  field  of  battle.  He  was  always  holding 
council  with  his  man,  and,  especially  for  the  last  two  years, 
seldom  mingled  with  the  company,  rarely  seeing  any  visitors. 
He  took  one  meal  only  with  the  family — his  dinner;  for  he 
was  up  too  early  to  breakfast  with  his  sister  and  his  son. 
It  is  to  the  Colonel's  skill  that  the  world  owes  the  Giguet 
rose,  famous  among  amateurs. 

This  old  man,  a  sort  of  domestic  fetich,  was  brought  out, 
of  course,  on  great  occasions;  some  families  have  a  demi- 
god of  this  kind,  and  make  a  display  of  him  as  they  would 
of  a  title. 

"I  have  a  suspicion  that  since  the  Revolution  of  July  Ma- 
dame Beauvisage  has  a  hankering  after  living  in  Paris," 
said  Madame  Marion.  "Being  compelled  to  remain  here  till 
her  father  dies,  she  has  transferred  her  ambition  and  placed 
her  hopes  in  her  future  son-in-law;  the  fair  matron  dreams 
of  the  splendors  of  a  political  position." 

"And  could  you  love  Cecile?"  asked  the  Colonel  of  his 
son. 

"Yes,  father." 

"Does  she  take  to  you?" 

"I  think  so.  But  the  important  point  is  that  her  mother 
and  her  grandfather  should  fancy  me.  Although  old  Grevin 
is  pleased  to  oppose  my  election,  success  would  bring  Ma- 
dame Beauvisage  to  accept  me,  for  she  will  hope  to  govern 
me  to  her  mind,  and  be  minister  under  my  name." 

"A  good  joke !"  cried  Madame  Marion.  "And  what  does 
she  take  us  for?" 

"Whom  has  she  refused  then?"  asked  the  Colonel  of  his 
sister. 

"Well,  within  the  last  three  months  they  say  that  Antonin 
Goulard  and  Monsieur  Froderic  Marest,  the  public  pros- 
ecutor, got  very  equivocal  replies,  meaning  anything  except- 
ing Yes." 


8  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Good  Heavens!"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  throwing  up 
his  arms,  "what  times  we  live  in !  Why,  Cecile  is  a  hosier's 
daughter,  a  farmer's  grandchild. — Does  Madame  Beauvisage 
look  for  a  Comte  de  Cinq-Cygne  for  a  son-in-law?" 

"Nay,  brother,  do  not  make  fun  of  the  Beauvisages.  Cecile 
is  rich  enough  to  choose  a  husband  wherever  she  pleases — 
even  of  the  rank  of  the  Cygnes. — But  I  hear  the  bell  an- 
nouncing the  arrival  of  some  elector;  I  must  go,  and  am 
sorry  that  I  cannot  listen  to  what  is  said." 

Though,  politically  speaking,  1839  is  far  enough  from 
1847,  we  can  still  remember  the  elections  which  produced 
the  Coalition,  a  brief  attempt  made  by  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  to  carry  into  effect  the  threatened  parliamentary 
government ;  a  Cromwellian  threat  which,  for  lack  of  a  Crom- 
well, and  under  a  King  averse  to  fraud,  could  only  result 
in  the  system  we  now  live  under,  of  a  Ministry  and  Chamber 
for  all  the  world  like  the  puppets  that  are  worked  by  the 
owner  of  a  show,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  always  gaping 
passer-by. 

The  district  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  was  at  that  time  in  a  strange 
position,  believing  itself  free  to  elect  a  deputy.  From  1816 
till  1836  it  had  always  returned  one  of  the  most  ponderous 
orators  of  the  Left,  one  of  those  seventeen  whom  the  Liberal 
party  loved  to  designate  as  great  citizens — no  less  a  man,  in 
short,  than  Frangois  Keller,  of  the  firm  of  Keller  Brothers, 
son-in-law  to  the  Comte  de  Gondreville. 

Gondreville,  one.  of  the  finest  estates  in  France,  is  not 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  league  from  Arcis.  The  banker, 
lately  created  count  and  peer  of  France,  proposed,  no  doubt, 
to  hand  on  to  his  son,  now  thirty  years  of  age,  his  posi- 
tion as  deputy,  so  as  to  fit  him  in  due  time  to  sit  among 
the  peers. 

Charles  Keller,  already  a  major  holding  a  staff  appoint- 
ment, and  now  a  viscount,  as  one  of  the  Prince  Eoyal's 
favorites,  was  attached  to  the  party  of  the  Citizen  King.  A 
splendid  future  seemed  to  lie  before  a  young  man  of  immense 
wealth,  high  courage,  and  noteworthy  devotion  to  the  new 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  9 

dynasty — grandson  to  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  and  nephew 
of  the  Marechale  de  Carigliano.  But  this  election,  indis- 
pensable to  his  future  plans,  presented  very  great  difficulties. 

Ever  since  the  advancement  to  power  of  the  citizen  class, 
Arcis  had  felt  a  vague  yearning  for  independence.  The  last 
few  elections,  at  which  Frangois  Keller  had  been  returned, 
had  been  disturbed  by  certain  Kepublicans  whose  red  caps 
and  wagging  beards  had  not  proved  alarming  to  the  good 
folk  of  Arcis.  By  working  up  the  feeling  of  the  country, 
the  radical  candidate  had  secured  thirty  or  forty  votes.  Some 
of  the  residents,  humiliated  by  seeing  their  town  a  rotten 
borough  of  the  Opposition,  then  joined  these  democrats,  but 
not  to  support  democracy.  In  France,  when  the  votes  are 
polled,  strange  politico-chemical  products  are  evolved  in  which 
the  laws  of  affinity  are  quite  upset.  Now  to  nominate  young 
Major  Keller,  in  1839,  after  returning  his  father  for  twenty 
years,  would  be  positively  slavish,  a  servitude  against  which 
the  pride  of  many  rich  townsmen  rose  in  arms — men  who 
thought  themselves  quite  the  equals  of  Monsieur  Malin  Comte 
de  Gondreville  or  of  Keller  Brothers,  bankers,  or  the  Cinq- 
Cygnes  or  the  King  .himself,  if  it  came  to  that !  Hence  the 
numerous  partisans  of  old  Gondreville,  the  king  of  the  de- 
partment, hoped  for  some  fresh  stroke  of  the  astuteness  he 
had  so  often  shown.  To  keep  up  the  influence  of  his  family 
in  the  district  of  Arcis,  the  old  statesman  would,  no  doubt, 
put  forward  some  man  of  straw  belonging  to  the  place,  who 
would  then  accept  public  office  and  make  way  for  Charles 
Keller,  a  state  of  things  which  requires  the  elect  of  the  peo- 
ple to  stand  another  election. 

When  Simon  Giguet  sounded  Grevin  the  notary,  the  Count's 
faithful  ally,  on  the  subject  of  the  candidature,  the  old  man 
replied  that,  without  knowing  anything  of  the  Comte  de 
Gondreville's  intentions,  Charles  Keller  was  the  man  for 
him,  and  that  he  should  do  his  utmost  to  secure  his  return. 

As  soon  as  Grevin' s  announcement  was  made  known  in 
Arcis  there  was  a  strong  feeling  against  him.  Although  this 
Aristides  of  Champagne  had,  during  thirty  years  of  practice, 


10  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

commanded  the  fullest  confidence  of  the  citizens;  although 
he  had  been  mayor  of  the  town  from  1804  till  1814,  and  again 
during  the  Hundred  Days;  although  the  Opposition  had 
recognized  him  as  their  leader  till  the  days  of  triumph  in 
1830,  when  he  had  refused  the  honor  of  the  mayoralty  in 
consideration  of  his  advanced  age;  finally,  although  the 
town,  in  proof  of  its  attachment,  had  then  elected  his  son- 
in-law,  Monsieur  Beauvisage,  they  now  all  turned  against 
him,  and  some  of  the  younger  spirits  accused  him  of  being 
in  his  dotage.  Simon  Giguet's  supporters  attached  themselves 
to  Phileas  Beauvisage  the  mayor,  who  was  all  the  more  ready 
to  side  with  them  because,  without  being  on  bad  terms  with 
his  father-in-law,  he  affected  an  independence  which  resulted 
in  a  coolness,  but  which  the  cunning  old  father-in-law  over- 
looked, finding  in  it  a  convenient  lever  for  acting  on  the 
townspeople  of  Arcis. 

Monsieur  le  Maire,  questioned  only  the  day  before  on  the 
market-place,  had  declared  that  he  would  sooner  vote  for 
the  first  name  on  the  list  of  eligible  citizens  of  Arcis  than 
for  Charles  Keller,  for  whom  he  had,  however,  the  highest 
esteem. 

"Arcis  shall  no  longer  be  a  rotten  borough  !"  cried  he.  "Or 
I  go  to  live  in  Paris." 

Flatter  the  passions  of  the  day,  and  you  become  a  hero  at 
once,  even  at  Arcis-sur-Aube. 

"Monsieur  le  Maire  has  given  crowning  proof  of  his  firm- 
ness of  temper,"  they  said. 

Nothing  gathers  faster  than  a  legalized  rebellion.  In  the 
course  of  the  evening  Madame  Marion  and  her  friends  had 
organized  for  the  morrow  a  meeting  of  "Independent  Elec- 
tors" in  favor  of  Simon  Giguet,  the  Colonel's  son.  And  now 
that  morrow  was  to-day,  and  she  had  turned  the  whole  house 
topsy-turvy  for  the  reception  of  the  friends  on  whose  in- 
dependence they  relied. 

Simon  Giguet,  the  home-made  candidate  of  a  little  town 
that  was  jealously  eager  to  return  one  of  its  sons,  had,  as 
has  been  seen,  at  once  taken  advantage  of  this  little  stir  to 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  11 

make  himself  the  representative  of  the  wants  and  interests 
of  Southwestern  Champagne.  At  the  same  time,  the  posi- 
tion and  fortune  of  the  Giguet  family  were  wholly  due  to 
the  Comte  de  Gondreville.  But  when  an  election  is  in  the 
case,  can  feelings  be  considered  ? 

This  drama  is  written  for  the  enlightenment  of  lands  so 
unhappy  as  to  be  ignorant  of  the  benefits  of  national  repre- 
sentation, and  unaware,  therefore,  of  the  intestinal  struggles 
and  the  Brutus-like  sacrifices  a  little  town  has  to  suffer  in 
giving  birth  to  a  deputy — a  natural  and  majestic  spectacle 
which  can  only  be  compared  to  child-birth — there  are  the 
same  efforts,  the  same  defilement,  the  same  travail,  the  same 
triumph. 

It  may  be  wondered  how  an  only  son  with  a  very  sufficient 
fortune  happened  to  be,  like  Simon  Giguet,  an  unpretending 
advocate  in  the  little  town  of  Arcis,  where  advocates  have 
hardly  any  employment.  So  a  few  words  are  here  necessary 
describing  the  candidate. 

During  his  wife's  lifetime,  from  1806  to  1813,  the  Colonel 
had  had  three  children,  of  whom  Simon,  the  eldest,  survived 
the  other  two.  The  mother  died  in  1814,  one  of  the  children 
in  1818,  the  other  in  1825.  Until  he  remained  the  sole  sur- 
vivor, Simon  had,  of  course,  been  brought  up  with  a  view 
to  making  his  own  living  by  some  lucrative  profession.  Then, 
when  he  was  an  only  son,  Simon's  prospects  underwent  a 
reverse.  Madame  Marion's  hopes  for  her  nephew  had  been 
largely  founded  on  his  inheriting  considerable  wealth  from 
his  grandfather,  the  Hamburg  banker ;  but  the  German,  dying 
in  1826,  left  his  grandson  Giguet  no  more  than  two  thousand 
francs  a  year.  The  financier,  endowed  with  great  powers  of 
procreation,  had  counteracted  the  monotony  of  commercial 
life  by  indulging  in  the  joys  of  fatherhood ;  hence  he  favored 
the  families  of  the  eleven  other  children  who  clung  to  him, 
;is  it  were,  and  made  him  believe — what,  indeed,  seemed  not 
unlikely — that  Simon  would  be  a  rich  man. 

The  Colonel  was  bent  on  putting  his  son  into  an  inde- 
pendent profession;  and  this  was  why:  the  Giguets  could 


12  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

not  hope  for  any  favor  from  Government  under  the  Restora- 
tion. Even  if  Simon  had  not  had  an  ardent  Bonapartist  for 
his  father,  he  belonged  to  a  family  all  of  whom  had  justly 
incurred  the  disapprobation  of  the  Cinq-Cygne  family,  in 
consequence  of  the  part  taken  by  Giguet,  the  Colonel  of  Gen- 
darmes, and  all  the  Marions — Madame  Marion  included — 
as  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  in  the  famous  trial  of  the 
Simeuses.  These  brothers  were  unjustly  sentenced,  in  1805, 
as  guilty  of  carrying  off  and  detaining  the  Comte  de  Gondre- 
ville  (at  that  time  a  senator,  after  having  been  the  people's 
representative),  who  had  despoiled  their  family  of  its  for- 
tune. 

Grevin  had  been  not  only  one  of  the  most  important 
witnesses,  but  also  an  ardent  promoter  of  the  proceedings. 
At  this  time  this  trial  still  divided  the  district  of  Arcis  into 
two  factions — one  believing  in  the  innocence  of  the  condemned 
parties  and  upholding  the  family  of  Cinq-Cygne,  the  other 
supporting  the  Comte  de  Gondreville  and  his  adherents. 
Though,  after  the  Restoration,  the  Comtesse  de  Cinq-Cygne 
made  use  of  the  influence  she  acquired  by  the  return  of  the 
Bourbons  to  settle  everything  to  her  mind  in  the  department, 
the  Comte  de  Gondreville  found  means  to  counterbalance 
the  supremacy  of  the  Cinq-Cygnes  by  the  secret  authority 
he  held  over  the  Liberals  by  means  of  Grevin  and  Colonel 
Giguet.  He  also  had  the  support  of  his  son-in-law  Keller, 
who  was  unfailingly  elected  deputy  in  spite  of  the  Cinq- 
Cygnes,  and  considerable  influence  in  the  State  Council  so 
long  as  Louis  XVIII.  lived. 

It  was  not  till  after  the  death  of  that  king  that  the 
Comtesse  de  Cinq-Cygne  was  successful  in  getting  Michu  ap- 
pointed presiding  judge  of  the  Lower  Court  at  Arcis.  She 
was  bent  on  getting  this  place  for  the  grandson  of  the  land 
steward  who  had  perished  on  the  scaffold  at  Troyes,  the  victim 
of  his  attachment  to  the  Simeuses,  and  whose  full-length 
portrait  was  to  be  seen  in  her  drawing-room  both  in  Paris 
and  at  Cinq-Cygne.  Until  1823  the  Comte  constantly  hin- 
dered the  appointment  of  Michu. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  13 

It  was  by  the  Comte  de  Gondreville's  advice  that  Colonel 
Giguet  had  made  a  lawyer  of  his  son.  Simon  had  all  the 
better  chance  of  shining  in  the  Areis  district,  because  he  was 
the  only  pleader  there;  as  a  rule,  in  these  small  towns,  the 
attorneys  plead  in  their  own  cases.  Simon  had  had  some 
little  success  at  the  assizes  of  the  department ;  but  he  was  not 
the  less  the  butt  of  many  pleasantries  from  Frederic  Marest, 
the  public  prosecutor ;  Olivier  Yinet,  his  deputy ;  and  Michu, 
the  presiding  judge — the  three  wits  of  the  court.  Simon 
Giguet,  it  must  be  owned,  like  all  men  who  are  laughed  at, 
laid  himself  open  to  the  cruel  power  of  ridicule.  He  listened 
to  his  own  voice,  he  was  ready  to  talk  on  any  pretence,  he 
spun  out  endless  reels  of  cut-and-dried  phrases,  which  were 
accepted  as  eloquence  among  the  superior  citizens  of  Arcis. 
The  poor  fellow  was  one  of  the  class  of  bores  who  have  an  ex- 
planation for  everything,  even  for  the  simplest  matters.  He 
would  explain  the  rain ;  the  causes  of  the  Eevolution  of  July ; 
he  would  also  explain  things  that  were  inexplicable — he 
would  explain  Louis- Philippe,  Monsieur  Odilon  Barrot,  Mon- 
sieur Thiers ;  he  explained  the  Eastern  Question ;  the  state  of 
the  province  of  Champagne;  he  explained  1789,  the  custom- 
house tariff,  the  views  of  humanitarians,  magnetism,  and  the 
distribution  of  the  civil  list. 

This  young  man,  who  was  lean  and  bilious-looking,  and 
tall  enough  to  account  for  his  sonorous  emptiness — for  a 
tall  man  is  rarely  remarkable  for  distinguished  gifts — 
caricatured  the  puritanism  of  the  Extreme  Left,  whose  mem- 
bers are  all  so  precise,  after  the  fashion  of  a  prude  who  has 
some  intrigue  to  conceal.  Always  dressed  in  black,  he  wore 
a  white  tie  that  hung  loose  round  his  neck,  while  his  face 
seemed  to  be  set  in  stiff  white  paper,  for  he  still  affected  the 
upright  starched  collars  which  fashion  has  happily  discarded. 
His  coat  and  trousers  were  always  too  big  for  him.  He  had 
what,  in  the  country,  is  termed  dignity,  that  is  to  say,  he 
stood  stiffly  upright  while  he  was  boring  you — Antonin  Gou- 
lard, his  friend,  accusing  him  of  aping  Monsieur  Dupin. 
And,  in  fact,  he  was  rather  too  much  given  to  low  shoes,  and 
coarse  black  spun-Bilk  stockings. 


14  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Under  the  protection  of  the  respect  constantly  shown  to 
his  old  father,  and  the  influence  exerted  by  his  aunt  in  a  small 
town  whose  principal  inhabitants  had  haunted  her  receptions 
for  four-and-twenty  years,  Simon  Giguet,  already  possessed 
of  about  ten  thousand  francs  a  year,  irrespective  of  the  fees 
he  earned,  and  his  aunt's  fortune,  which  would  some  day 
certainly  be  his,  never  doubted  of  his  election.  At  the  same 
time,  the  first  sound  of  the  door-bell,  announcing  the  advent 
of  the  more  important  electors,  made  the  ambitious  youth's 
heart  beat  with  vague  alarms.  Simon  did  not  deceive  him- 
self as  to  the  cleverness  or  the  vast  resources  at  the  command 
of  old  Grevin,  nor  as  to  the  effect  of  the  heroic  measures  that 
would  be  taken  by  the  Ministry  to  support  the  interests  of  the 
brave  young  officer — at  that  time  in  Africa  on  the  staff  of  the 
Prince — who  was  the  son  of  one  of  the  great  citizen-lords  of 
France,  and  the  nephew  of  a  Marechale. 

"I  really  think  I  have  the  colic,"  said  he  to  his  father.  "I 
have  a  sickly  burning  just  over  the  pit  of  my  stomach,  which 
I  do  not  at  all  like " 

"The  oldest  soldiers,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "felt  just 
the  same  when  the  guns  opened  fire  at  the  beginning  of  a 
battle." 

"What  will  it  be,  then,  in  the  Chamber!"  exclaimed  the 
lawyer. 

"The  Comte  de  Gondreville  has  told  us,"  the  old  soldier 
went  on,  "that  more  than  one  speaker  is  liable  to  the  little 
discomforts  which  we  old  leather-breeches  were  used  to  feel 
at  the  beginning  of  a  fight.  And  all  for  a  few  empty  words ! 
— But,  dear  me,  you  want  to  be  a  deputy,"  added  the  old 
man,  with  a  shrug.  "Be  a  deputy !" 

"The  triumph,  father,  will  be  Cecile !  Cecile  is  enormously 
rich,  and  in  these  days  money  is  power." 

"Well,  well,  times  have  changed !  In  the  Emperor's  time 
it  was  bravery  that  was  needed." 

"Every  age  may  be  summed  up  in  a  word !"  said  Simon, 
repeating  a  remark  of  the  old  Comte  de  Gondreville's,  which 
was  thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  man.  "Under  the 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  15 

Empire  to  ruin  a  man  you  said,  'He  is  a  coward !'  Nowadays 
we  say,  'He  is  a  swindler.' '' 

"Unhappy  France,  what  have  you  come  to!"  cried  the 
Colonel.  "I  will  go  back  to  my  roses." 

"No,  no,  stay  here,  father.  You  are  the  keystone  of  the 
arch !" 

The  first  to  appear  was  the  Mayor,  Monsieur  Phileas  Beau- 
visage,  and  with  him  came  his  father-in-law's  successor,  the 
busiest  notary  in  the  town,  Achille  Pigoult,  the  grandson  of 
an  old  man  who  had  been  justice  of  the  peace  at  Arcis  all 
through  the  ^Revolution,  the  Empire,  and  the  early  days  of 
the  Eestoration.  Achille  Pigoult,  a  man  of  about  two-and- 
thirty,  had  been  old  Grevin's  clerk  for  eighteen  years,  with- 
out a  hope  of  getting  an  office  as  notary.  His  father,  the  old 
justice's  son,  had  failed  badly  in  business,  and  died  of  an 
apoplexy  so  called.  Then  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  on  whom 
old  Pigoult  had  some  claims  outstanding  from  1793,  had  lent 
the  necessary  security,  and  so  enabled  the  grandson  to  pur- 
chase Grevin's  office ;  the  old  justice  of  the  peace  had,  in  fact, 
conducted  the  preliminary  inquiry  in  the  Simeuse  case.  So 
Achille  had  established  himself  in  a  house  in  the  Church 
Square  belonging  to  the  Count,  and  let  at  so  low  a  rent  that 
it  was  easy  to  perceive  how  anxious  the  wily  politician  was  to 
keep  a  hold  over  the  chief  notary  of  the  town. 

This  young  Pigoult,  a  lean  little  man,  with  eyes  that 
seemed  to  pierce  the  green  spectacles  which  did  not  mitigate 
their  cunning  expression,  and  fully  informed  of  everybody's 
concerns  in  the  district,  had  acquired  a  certain  readiness  of 
speech  from  the  habit  of  talking  on  business,  and  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  great  wag,  simply  because  he  spoke  out  with 
rather  more  wit  than  the  natives  had  at  their  command.  He 
was  still  a  bachelor,  looking  forward  to  making  some  good 
match  by  the  intervention  of  his  two  patrons — Grevin  and 
the  Comte  de  Gondreville.  And  lawyer  Giguet  could  not 
repress  a  start  of  surprise  when  he  saw  Achille  as  a  satellite 
to  Monsieur  Phil  ('as  Beau  visage. 

The  little  notary,  his  face  so  seamed  with  the  small-pox  that 


16  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARGIS 

it  looked  as  if  it  were  covered  with  a  white  honeycomb,  was 
a  perfect  contrast  to  the  burly  mayor,  whose  face  was  like  a 
full  moon,  and  a  florid  moon  too.  This  pink-and-white  com- 
plexion was  set  off  by  a  beaming  smile,  the  result  less  of  a 
happy  frame  of  mind  than  of  the  shape  of  his  mouth;  but 
Phileas  Beauvisage  was  blessed  with  such  perfect  self-satis- 
faction, that  he  smiled  incessantly  on  everybody  and  under 
all  circumstances.  Those  doll-like  lips  would  have  grinned 
at  a  funeral.  The  bright  sparkle  in  his  round  blue  eyes  did 
not  belie  that  insufferable  and  perpetual  smile. 

The  man's  entire  self-satisfaction  passed,  however,  for 
benevolence  and  friendliness,  all  the  more  readily  because  he 
had  a  style  of  speech  of  his  own,  marked  by  the  most  ex- 
travagant use  of  polite  phraseology.  He  always  "had  the 
honor"  to  inquire  after  the  health  of  a  friend,  he  invariably 
added  the  adjectives  dear,  good,  excellent;  and  he  was  prodigal 
of  complimentary  phrases  on  every  occasion  of  the  minor 
grievances  or  pleasures  of  life.  Thus,  under  a  deluge  of 
commonplace,  he  concealed  his  utter  incapacity,  his  lack  of 
education,  and  a  vacillating  nature  which  can  only  find 
adequate  description  in  the  old-fashioned  word  weathercock. 
But  then  this  weathercock  had  for  its  pinion  handsome  Ma- 
dame Beauvisage,  Severine  Grevin,  the  notable  lady  of  the 
district. 

When  Severine  had  heard  of  what  she  was  pleased  to  call 
her  husband's  freak  a  propos  to  the  election,  she  had  said 
to  him  that  very  morning: 

"You  did  not  do  badly  by  asserting  your  independence; 
but  you  must  not  go  to  the  meeting  at  the  Giguets'  without 
taking  Achille  Pigoult;  I  have  sent  to  tell  him  to  call  for 
you." 

Now  sending  Achille  Pigoult  to  keep  an  eye  on  Beauvisage 
was  tantamount  to  sending  a  spy  from  the  Gondreville  fac- 
tion to  attend  the  Giguets'  meeting.  So  it  is  easy  to  imagine 
what  a  grimace  twisted  Simon's  puritanical  features  when 
he  found  himself  extending  a  civil  welcome  to  a  regular 
visitor  in  his  aunt's  drawing-room,  and  an  influential  elector, 
in  whom  he  scented  an  enemy. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  17 

"Ah !"  thought  he  to  himself,  "I  was  a  fool  when  I  refused 
the  security  money  he  asked  me  to  lend  him!  Old  Gondre- 
ville  was  sharper  than  I. — Good-day,  Achille,"  he  said 
aloud,  with  an  air  of  ease.  "You  will  give  me  a  tough  job 
or  two." 

"Your  meeting  is  not  a  conspiracy  against  the  independence 
of  our  votes,  I  suppose,"  replied  the  notary  with  a  smile. 
"We  are  playing  above  board  ?" 

"Above  board !"  repeated  Beauvisage. 

And  the  Mayor  laughed  that  meaningless  laugh  with  which 
some  men  end  every  sentence,  and  which  might  be  called 
the  burden  of  their  song.  Then  Monsieur  le  Maire  assumed 
what  we  may  call  his  third  position,  full-face,  and  very  up- 
right, with  his  hands  behind  his  back.  He  was  in  a  whole 
suit  of  black,  with  a  highly  decorative  white  waistcoat,  open  so  as 
to  show  a  glimpse  of  two  diamond  studs  worth  several  thou- 
sand francs. 

"We  will  fight  it  out,  and  be  none  the  worse  friends," 
Phileas  went  on.  "That  is  the  essential  feature  of  con- 
stitutional institutions. — Hah,  ha,  ha !  That  is  my  notion 
of  the  alliance  between  monarchy  and  liberty. — He,  he,  he !" 

Thereupon  the  Mayor  took  Simon  by  the  hand,  saying: 

"And  how  are  you,  my  dear  friend?  Your  dear  aunt  and 
the  worthy  Colonel  are,  no  doubt,  as  well  to-day  as  they  were 
yesterday — at  least  we  may  presume  that  they  are. — Heh, 
heh !  A  little  put  out,  perhaps,  by  the  ceremony  we  are  pre- 
paring for,  perhaps. — So,  so  !  Young  man"  (yong  maan,  he 
said),  "we  are  starting  in  our  political  career? — Ah,  ha,  ha! 
This  is  our  first  step ! — We  must  never  draw  back — it  is  a 
strong  measure !  Ay,  and  I  would  rather  you  than  I  should 
rush  into  the  tempests  of  the  Chamber. — He,  he !  pleasing 
as  it  may  be  to  find  the  sovereign  power  of  France  embodied 
in  one's  own  person — he,  he  ! — one  four-hundred-and-fifty- 
third  part  of  it — he,  he !" 

There  was  a  pleasant  fulness  in  Phileas  Beauvisage's  voice 
that  corresponded  admirably  with  tjie  gourd-like  rotundity 
of  his  face  and  its  hue  as  of  a  pale  buff  pumpkin,  his  round 


18  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARGIS 

back,  and  broad  protuberant  person.  His  voice,  as  deep 
and  mellow  as  a  bass,  had  the  velvety  quality  of  a  baritone, 
and  the  laugh  with  which  he  ended  every  sentence  had  a 
silvery  ring.  If  God,  in  stocking  the  earthly  paradise,  had 
wanted  to  complete  the  set  of  species  by  adding  a  country 
citizen,  He  could  not  have  moulded  a  more  magnificent  and 
developed  specimen  than  Phileas  Beauvisage. 

"I  admire  the  devotion  of  men  who  can  throw  themselves 
into  the  storms  of  political  life,"  he  went  on.  "He,  he,  he ! 
You  need  a  nerve  that  I  cannot  boast  of.  Who  would  have 
said  in  1812 — in  1813  even — that  this  was  what  we  were 
coming  to? — For  my  part,  I  am  prepared  for  anything,  now 
that  asphalt  and  india-rubber,  railways  and  steam,  are 
metamorphosing  the  ground  under  our  feet,  our  greatcoats, 
and  the  length  of  distances. — Ha,  ha !" 

This  speech  was  freely  seasoned  with  the  eternal  laugh 
by  which  Phileas  pointed  the  commonplace  facetiousness  that 
passes  muster  with  his  class,  and  he  emphasized  it  by  a  ges- 
ture he  had  made  his  own:  he  clenched  his  right  fist  and 
rubbed  it  into  the  hollow  palm  of  the  left  hand  with  a 
peculiarly  jovial  air.  This  action  was  an  accompaniment  to 
his  giggle  on  the  many  occasions  when  he  flattered  himself 
that  he  had  been  witty. 

It  is,  no  doubt,  superfluous  to  add  that  Phileas  was  re- 
garded at  Arcis  as  an  agreeable  and  charming  man. 

"I  will  endeavor,"  said  Simon  Giguet,  "to  be  a  worthy 
representative 

"Of  the  sheep  of  Champagne,"  said  Achille  Pigoult  quickly, 
interrupting  his  friend. 

The  aspirant  took  the  irony  without  replying,  for  he  had 
to  go  forward  and  receive  two  more  electors.  One  was  the 
owner  of  the  Mulet,  the  best  inn  of  the  town,  situated  in  the 
market  square,  at  the  corner  of  the  Eue  de  Brienne.  This 
worthy  innkeeper,  whose  name  was  Poupart,  had  married  the 
sister  of  a  man  in  the  Comtesse  de  Cinq-Cygne's  service,  the 
notorious  Gothard,  who.  had  figured  at  the  great  trial.  Go- 
thard  had  been  acquitted.  Poupart,  though  he  was  of  all 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  19 

the  townsfolk  one  of  the  most  devoted  to  the  Cinq-Cygnes, 
had,  two  days  since,  been  so  diligently  and  so  cleverly 
wheedled  by  Colonel  Giguet's  servant,  that  he  fancied  he 
would  be  doing  their  enemy  an  ill  turn  by  bringing  all  his 
influence  to  bear  on  the  election  of  Simon  Giguet ;  and  he  had 
just  been  talking  to  this  effect  to  a  chemist  named  Fromaget, 
who,  as  he  was  not  employed  by  the  Gondreville  family,  was 
very  ready  to  plot  against  the  Kellers.  These  two  men,  im- 
portant among  the  lower  middle  class,  could  control  a  certain 
number  of  doubtful  votes,  for  they  were  the  advisers  of  several 
electors  to  whom  the  political  opinions  of  the  candidates  were 
a  matter  of  indifference. 

Simon,  therefore,  took  Poupart  in  hand,  leaving  Fromaget 
to  his  father,  who  had  just  come  in,  and  was  greeting  those 
who  had  arrived. 

The  deputy  inspector  of  public  works  of  the  district,  the 
secretary  to  the  Mairie,  four  bailiffs,  three  attorneys,  the 
clerk  of  assize,  and  the  justice's  clerk,  the  revenue  collector, 
and  the  registrar,  two  doctors — old  Varlet's  rivals,  Grevin's 
brother-in-law — a  miller  named  Laurent  Coussard,  leader  of 
the  Republican  party  at  Arcis — the  mayor's  two  deputies,  the 
bookseller  and  printer  of  the  place,  and  a  dozen  or  so  of  towns- 
folk came  in  by  degrees,  and  then  walked  about  the  garden 
in  groups  while  waiting  till  the  company  should  be  numerous 
enough  to  hold  a  meeting. 

Finally,  by  twelve  o'clock,  about  fifty  men  in  their  Sunday 
attire,  most  of  them  having  come  out  of  curiosity  to  see  the 
fine  rooms  of  which  so  much  had  been  said  in  the  district, 
were  seated  in  the  chairs  arranged  for  them  by  Madame 
Marion.  The  windows  were  left  open,  and  the  silence  was 
presently  so  complete  that  the  rustle  of  a  silk  dress  could  be 
heard;  for  Madame  Marion  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
to  go  out  into  the  garden  and  sit  where  she  could  hear  what 
was  going  on.  The  cook,  the  housemaid,  and  the  man-servant 
remained  in  the  dining-room,  fully  sharing  their  master's 
feelings. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Simon  Giguet,  "some  of  you  wish  to 


20  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

do  my  father  the  honor  of  placing  him  in  the  chair  as 
dent  of  this  meeting,  but  Colonel  Giguet  desires  me  to  express 
his  acknowledgments  and  decline  it,  while  deeply  grateful  to 
you  for  the  proposal,  which  he  takes  as  a  recompense  for  his 
services  to  his  country. — We  are  under  my  father's  roof,  and 
he  feels  that  he  must  beg  to  be  excused;  he  proposes  a 
merchant  of  the  highest  respectability — a  gentleman  on  whom 
your  suffrages  conferred  the  mayoralty  of  this  town — Mon- 
sieur Phileas  Beauvisage." 

"Hear,  hear!" 

"We  are,  I  believe,  agreed  that  in  this  meeting — purely 
friendly,  and  perfectly  free,  without  prejudice  in  any  way 
to  the  great  preliminary  meeting,  when  it  will  be  your  busi- 
ness to  question  your  candidates  and  weigh  their  merits — we 
are  agreed,  I  say,  to  follow  the  forms — the  constitutional 
forms — of  the  elective  Chamber?" 

"Yes,  yes!"  unanimously. 

"Therefore,"  said  Simon,  "I  have  the  honor,  speaking  in 
the  name  of  all  present,  to  request  Monsieur  the  Mayor  to 
take  the  president's  chair." 

Phileas  rose  and  crossed  the  room,  feeling  himself  turn 
as  red  as  a  cherry.  When  he  found  himself  behind  the  tea- 
table,  he  saw  not  a  hundred  eyes,  but  a  hundred  thousand 
lights.  The  sunshine  seemed  to  put  the  room  in  a  blaze,  and, 
to  use  his  own  words,  his  throat  was  full  of  salt. 

"Keturn  thanks !"  murmured  Simon  in  his  ear. 

"Gentlemen " 

The  silence  was  so  alarming  that  Phileas  felt  his  heart  in 
his  mouth. 

"What  am  I  to  say,  Simon  ?"  he  whispered. 

"Well?"  said  Achille  Pigoult. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Simon,  prompted  by  the  little  notary's 
spiteful  interjection,  "the  honor  you  have  done  the  mayor 
may  have  startled  without  surprising  him." 

"It  is  so,"  said  Beauvisage.  "I  am  too  much  overpowered 
by  this  compliment  from  my  fellow-citizens  not  to  be  ex- 
cessively flattered." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  21 

"Hear,  hear !"  cried  the  notary  only. 

"The  devil  may  take  me,"  said  Beauvisage  to  himself,  "if 
I  am  ever  caught  again  to  make  speeches!" 

"Will  Monsieur  Fromaget  and  Monsieur  Marcelin  accept 
the  functions  of  tellers?"  asked  Simon. 

"It  would  be  more  in  order,"  said  Achille  Pigoult,  rising, 
"if  the  meeting  were  to  elect  the  two  members  who  support 
the  chair — in  imitation  of  the  Chamber." 

"It  would  be  far  better,"  observed  Monsieur  Mollot,  an 
enormous  man,  clerk  of  the  assizes,  "otherwise  the  whole 
business  will  be  a  farce,  and  we  shall  not  be  really  free. 
There  would  be  no  just  cause  why  the  whole  of  the  proceed- 
ings should  not  be  regulated  as  Monsieur  Simon  might  dic- 
tate." 

Simon  muttered  a  few  words  to  Beauvisage,  who  rose,  and 
was  presently  delivered  of  the  word,  "Gentlemen!"  which 
might  be  described  as  of  thrilling  interest. 

"Allow  me,  Mr.  President,"  said  Achille  Pigoult;  "it  is 
your  part  to  preside,  not  to  discuss." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Beauvisage  again,  prompted  by  Simon, 
"if  we  are  to — to  conform  to — to  parliamentary  usage — I 
would  beg  the  Honorable  Monsieur  Pigoult  to — to  come  and 
speak  from  the  table — this  table." 

Pigoult  started  forward  and  stood  by  the  tea-table,  his 
fingers  lightly  resting  on  the  edge,  and  showed  his  courage 
by  speaking  fluently — almost  like  the  great  Monsieur  Thiers. 

"Gentlemen,  it  was  not  I  who  proposed  that  we  should 
imitate  the  Chamber;  till  now  it  has  always  appeared  to  me 
that  the  Chambers  are  truly  inimitable.  At  the  same  time, 
it  was  self-evident  that  a  meeting  of  sixty-odd  notables  of 
Champagne  must  select  a  president,  for  no  sheep  can  move 
without  a  shepherd.  If  we  had  voted  by  ballot,  I  am  quite 
sure  our  esteemed  mayor  would  have  been  unanimously 
elected.  His  antagonism  to  the  candidate  put  forward  by  his 
relations  shows  that  he  possesses  civic  courage  in  no  ordinary 
degree,  since  he  can  shake  oft*  the  strongest  ties — those  of 
family  connection. 


22  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"To  set  public  interest  above  family  feeling  is  so  great  an 
effort,  that,  to  achieve  it,  we  are  always  obliged  to  remind 
ourselves  that  Brutus,  from  his  tribune,  has  looked  down  on 
us  for  two  thousand  five  hundred  odd  years.  It  seemed  quite 
natural  to  Maitre  Giguet — who  was  so  clever  as  to  divine  our 
wishes  with  regard  to  the  choice  of  a  chairman — to  guide  us 
in  our  selection  of  the  tellers ;  but,  in  response  to  my  remark, 
you  thought  that  once  was  enough,  and  you  were  right.  Our 
common  friend,  Simon  Giguet,  who  is,  in  fact,  to  appear  as 
a  candidate,  would  appear  too  much  as  the  master  of  the  situ- 
ation, and  would  then  lose  that  high  place  in  our  opinion 
which  his  venerable  father  has  secured  by  his  diffidence. 

"Now,  what  is  our  worthy  chairman  doing  by  accepting 
the  presidency  on  the  lines  suggested  to  him  by  the  candidate  ? 
Why,  he  is  robbing  us  of  our  liberty.  And,  I  ask  you,  is  it 
seemly  that  the  chairman  of  our  choice  should  call  upon  us 
to  vote,  by  rising  and  sitting,  for  the  two  tellers?  Gentle- 
men, that  would  be  a  choice  already  made.  Should  we  be 
free  to  choose  ?  Can  a  man  sit  still  when  his  neighbor  stands  ? 
If  I  were  proposed,  every  one  would  rise,  I  believe,  out  of 
politeness;  and  so,  as  all  would  rise  for  each  one  in  turn, 
there  would  be  simply  no  choice  when  every  one  had  voted  for 
every  one  else." 

"Very  true!"  said  the  sixty  listeners. 

"Well,  then,  let  each  of  us  write  two  names  on  a  voting- 
paper,  and  then  those  who  take  their  seats  on  each  side  of 
the  chairman  may  regard  themselves  as  ornaments  to  the 
meeting.  They  will  be  qualified,  conjointly  with  the  chair- 
man, to  decide  on  the  majority  when  we  vote  by  rising  and 
sitting  on  any  resolution  to  be  passed. 

"We  have  met,  I  believe,  to  promise  the  candidate  such 
support  as  we  can  command  at  the  preliminary  meeting,  at 
which  every  elector  in  the  district  will  be  present.  This  I 
pronounce  to  be  a  solemn  occasion.  Are  we  not  voting  for  the 
four-hundredth  part  of  the  governing  power,  as  Monsieur 
le  Maire  told  us  just  now  with  the  appropriate  and  charac- 
teristic wit  that  we  so  highly  appreciate?" 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  23 

During  this  address  Colonel  Giguet  had  been  cutting  a 
sheet  of  paper  into  strips,  and  Simon  sent  for  an  inkstand 
and  pens.  There  was  a  pause. 

This  introductory  discussion  had  greatly  disturbed  Simon 
and  aroused  the  attention  of  the  sixty  worthies  in  convocation. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  were  all  busy  writing  the  names,  and 
the  cunning  Pigoult  gave  it  out  that  the  votes  were  in  favor 
of  Monsieur  Mollot,  clerk  of  assize,  and  Monsieur  Godivet, 
the  registrar.  These  two  nominations  naturally  displeased 
Fromaget  the  druggist  and  Marcelin  the  attorney. 

"You  have  been  of  service,"  said  Achille  Pigoult,  "by 
enabling  us  to  assert  our  independence ;  you  may  be  prouder 
of  being  rejected  than  you  could  have  been  of  being  chosen." 

Everybody  laughed.  Simon  Giguet  restored  silence  by 
asking  leave  of  the  chairman  to  speak.  Beauvisage  was 
already  damp  with  perspiration,  but  he  summoned  all  his 
courage  to  say : 

"Monsieur  Simon  Giguet  will  address  the  meeting." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  candidate,  "allow  me  first  to  thank 
Monsieur  Achille  Pigoult,  who,  although  our  meeting  is  a 
strictly  friendly  one " 

"Is  preparatory  to  the  great  preliminary  meeting,"  Marce- 
lin put  in. 

"I  was  about  to  say  so,"  Simon  went  on.  "In  the  first 
place,  I  beg  to  thank  Monsieur  Achille  Pigoult  for  having 
proceeded  on  strictly  parliamentary  lines.  To-day,  for  the 
first  time,  the  district  of  Arcis  will  make  free  use " 

"Free  use !"  said  Pigoult,  interrupting  the  orator. 

"Free  use !"  cried  the  assembly. 

"Free  use,"  repeated  Simon,  "of  the  right  of  voting  in  the 
great  contest  of  the  general  election  of  a  member  to  be  re- 
turned to  Parliament ;  and  as,  in  a  few  days,  we  shall  have  a 
meeting,  to  which  every  elector  is  invited,  to  form  an  opinion 
of  the  candidates,  we  may  think  ourselves  fortunate  to  ac- 
quire here,  on  a  small  scale,  some  practice  in  the  customs 
of  such  meetings.  We  shall  be  all  the  forwarder  as  to  a  deci- 
sion on  the  political  prospects  of  the  town  of  Arcis ;  for  what 


24  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

we  have  to  do  to-day  is  to  consider  the  town  instead  of  a 
family,  the  country  instead  of  a  man." 

He  went  on  to  sketch  the  history  of  the  elections  for  the 
past  twenty  years.  While  approving  of  the  repeated  election 
of  Frangois  Keller,  he  said  that  now  the  time  had  come  for 
shaking  off  the  yoke  of  the  Goridrevilles.  Arcis  could  not  be 
a  fief  of  the  Liberals  any  more  than  it  could  be  a  fief  of  the 
Cinq-Cygnes.  Advanced  opinions  were  making  their  way  in 
France,  and  Charles  Keller  did  not  represent  them.  Charles 
Keller,  now  a  viscount,  was  a  courtier;  he  could  never  be 
truly  independent,  since,  in  proposing  him  as  a  candidate 
for  election,  it  was  done  more  with  a  view  to  fitting  him  to 
succeed  his  father  as  a  peer  than  as  a  deputy  to  the  Lower 
Chamber — and  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  Finally,  Simon  begged 
to  offer  himself  as  a  candidate  for  their  suffrages,  pledging 
himself  to  sit  under  the  wing  of  the  illustrious  Odilon  Barrot, 
and  never  to  desert  the  glorious  standard  of  Progress.  Prog- 
ress ! — a  word  behind  which,  at  that  time,  more  insincere 
ambitions  took  shelter  than  definite  ideas;  for,  after  1830,  it 
could  only  stand  for  the  pretensions  of  certain  hungry  demo- 
crats. 

Still,  the  word  had  much  effect  in  Arcis,  and  lent  impor- 
tance to  any  man  who  wrote  it  on  his  flag.  A  man  who  an- 
nounced himself  as  a  partisan  of  Progress  was  a  philosopher 
in  all  questions,  and  politically  a  Puritan.  He  was  in  favor 
of  railways,  mackintoshes,  penitentiaries,  negro  emancipation, 
savings-banks,  seamless  shoes,  gas-lighting,  asphalt  pave- 
ments, universal  suffrage,  and  the  reduction  of  the  civil  list. 
It  was  also  a  pronouncement  of  opposition  to  the  treaties  of 
1815,  to  the  Elder  Branch  (the  Bourbons),  to  the  Giant  of 
the  North,  "perfidious  Albion,"  and  to  every  undertaking, 
good  or  bad,  inaugurated  by  the  Government.  As  may  be 
seen,  the  word  Progress  can  stand  equally  well  for  black  or 
white.  It  was  a  furbishing  up  of  the  word  Liberalism,  a  new 
rallying  cry  for  new  ambitions. 

"If  I  rightly  understand  what  we  are  here  for,"  said  Jean 
Violette,  a  stocking-weaver,  who  had,  two  years  since,  bought 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  25 

the  Beauvisage  business,  "we  are  to  bind  ourselves  to  secure, 
by  every  means  in  our  power,  the  return  of  Monsieur  Simon 
Giguet  at  the  election  as  member  for  Arcis  in  the  place  of  the 
Count  Frangois  Keller.  And  if  we  are  all  agreed  to  combine 
to  that  end,  we  have  only  to  say  Yes  or  No  to  that  question." 

"That  is  going  much  too  fast.  Political  matters  are  not 
managed  in  that  way,  or  they  would  cease  to  be  politics!" 
cried  Pigoult,  as  his  grandfather,  a  man  of  eighty-six,  came 
into  the  room.  "The  last  speaker  pronounces  a  decision  on 
what  is,  in  my  humble  opinion,  the  very  subject  under  dis- 
cussion. I  beg  to  speak." 

"Monsieur  Achille  Pigoult  will  address  the  meeting,"  said 
Beauvisage,  who  could  now  get  through  this  sentence  with 
due  municipal  and  constitutional  dignity. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  little  notary,  "if  there  be  in  all 
Arcis  a  house  where  no  opposition  ought  to  be  made  to  the 
influence  of  the  Comte  de  Gondreville  and  the  Keller  family, 
is  it  not  this?  The  worthy  Colonel — Colonel  Giguet — is  the 
only  member  of  this  household  who  has  not  experienced  the 
benefits  of  senatorial  influence,  since  he  never  asked  anything 
of  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  who,  however,  had  his  name 
erased  from  the  list  of  exiles  in  1815,  and  secured  him  the 
pension  he  enjoys,  without  any  steps  on  the  part  of  the 
Colonel,  who  is  the  pride  of  our  town " 

A  murmur,  flattering  to  the  old  man,  ran  through  the 
crowd. 

"But,"  the  orator  went  on,  "the  Marion  family  are  loaded 
with  the  Count's  favors.  But  for  his  patronage  the  late 
Colonel  Giguet  never  would  have  had  the  command  of  the 
Gendarmerie  of  this  department.  The  late  Monsieur  Marion 
would  not  have  been  presiding  judge  of  the  Imperial  Court 
he-re  but  for  the  Count — to  whom  I,  for  my  part,  am  eternally 
indebted.  You  will  therefore  understand  how  natural  it  is 
that  I  should  take  his  part  in  this  room. — And,  in  fact,  there 
are  few  persons  in  this  district  who  have  not  received  some 
kindness  from  that  family." 

There  was  a  stir  among  the  audience. 


26  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"A  candidate  comes  forward,"  Achille  went  on  with  some 
vehemence,  "and  I  have  a  right  to  inquire  into  his  past  before 
I  intrust  him  with  power  to  act  for  me.  Now  I  will  not 
accept  ingratitude  in  my  delegate,  for  ingratitude  is  like  mis- 
fortune— it  leads  from  bad  to  worse.  We  have  been  a  step- 
ping-stone for  the  Kellers,  you  will  say;  well,  what  I  have 
just  listened  to  makes  me  fear  that  we  may  become -a  stepping- 
stone  for  the  Giguets.  We  live  in  an  age  of  facts,  do  we  not  ? 
Well,  then,  let  us  inquire  what  will  be  the  results  for  the 
electors  of  Arcis  if  we  return  Simon  Giguet? 

"Independence  is  your  cry? — Well,  Simon,  whom  I  am 
scouting  as  a  candidate,  is  my  friend — as  he  is  the  friend  of 
all  who  hear  me — and  personally  I  should  be  delighted  to 
see  him  as  an  orator  of  the  Left,  between  Gamier-Pages  and 
Laffitte;  but  what  will  be  the  result  for  the  district  repre- 
sented?— It  will  have  lost  the  countenance  of  the  Comte  de 
Gondreville  and  the  Kellers,  and  in  the  course  of  five  years 
we  shall  all  feel  the  want  of  one  or  the  other.  If  we  want  to 
get  leave  for  a  poor  fellow  who  is  drawn  for  the  conscription, 
we  apply  to  the  Marechale  de  Carigliano.  We  rely  on  the 
Kellers'  interest  in  many  matters  of  business  which  their  good 
word  settles  at  once.  We  have  always  found  the  old  Comte 
de  Gondreville  kind  and  helpful ;  if  you  belong  to  Arcis,  you 
are  shown  in  without  being  kept  waiting.  Those  three  fam- 
ilies know  every  family  in  the  place. — But  where  is  the 
Maison  Giguet's  bank,  and  what  influence  has  it  on  the  Min- 
istry? What  credit  does  it  command  in  the  Paris  markets? 
If  we  want  to  have  a  good  stone  bridge  in  the  place  of  our 
wretched  timber  one,  will  the  Giguets  extract  the  necessary 
funds  from  the  Department  and  the  State  ? 

"If  we  return  Charles  Keller,  we  shall  perpetuate  a  bond 
of  alliance  and  friendship  which  till  now  has  been  entirely 
to  our  advantage.  By  electing  my  good,  my  excellent  friend 
and  schoolfellow  Simon  Giguet,  we  shall  be  constantly  the 
worse  till  he  is  in  office !  And  I  know  his  modesty  too  well 
to  think  that  he  will  contradict  me  when  I  express  a  doubt 
as  to  his  rapid  advancement  to  the  Ministry!  (Laughter.) 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  27 

"I  came  to  this  meeting  to  oppose  a  resolution  which,  I 
think,  would  be  fatal  to  our  district.  'Charles  Keller  is  a 
courtier/  I  am  told. — So  much  the  better.  We  shall  not  have 
to  pay  for  his  political  apprenticeship;  he  knows  all  the 
business  of  the  place,  and  the  requirements  of  parliamentary 
etiquette;  he  is  more  nearly  a  statesman  than  my  friend 
Simon,  who  does  not  pretend  that  he  has  trained  himself  to 
be  a  Pitt  or  a  Talleyrand  in  our  little  town  of  Arcis " 

"Danton  was  a  native  of  Arcis !"  cried  Colonel  Giguet, 
furious  at  this  harangue,  which  was  only  too  truthful. 

"Hear,  hear!"  The  word  was  shouted,  and  sixty  listeners 
clapped  the  speaker. 

"My  father  is  very  ready,"  said  Simon  in  an  undertone  to 
Beauvisage. 

"I  cannot  understand  why,  in  discussing  an  election  mat- 
ter, there  should  be  so  much  exaggeration  of  any  ties  be- 
tween us  and  the  Comte'  de  Gondreville,"  the  old  Colonel 
went  on,  starting  to  his  feet,  while  the  blood  mounted  to  his 
face.  "My  son  inherits  his  fortune  from  his  mother ;  he  never 
asked  the  Comtc  de  Gondreville  for  anything.  If  the  Count 
had  never  existed,  my  son  would  have  been  just  what  he  is — 
the  son  of  an  artillery  Colonel  who  owes  his  promotion  to  his 
services — a  lawyer  who  has  always  held  the  same  opinions. — 
I  would  say  to  the  Comte  de  Gondreville  himself,  'We  have 
elected  your  son-in-law  for  twenty  years.  Now  we  wish  to 
prove  that  when  we  did  so  it  was  of  our  own  free-will,  and  we 
are  returning  an  Arcis  man  to  show  that  the  old  spirit  of 
1793 — to  which  you  owed  your  fortune — still  lives  on  the 

native  soil  of  Danton,  Malin,  Grevin,  Pigoult,  Marion ' 

And  so " 

The  old  man  sat  down. 

There  was  a  great  commotion.  Achille  opened  his  mouth 
to  speak.  Beauvisage,  who  would  not  have  felt  himself  pre- 
siding if  he  had  not  rung  his  bell,  added  to  the  racket  by 
ringing  for  silence.  It  was  by  this  time  two  o'clock. 

"I  must  be  permitted  to  point  out  to  the  honored -Colonel, 
whose  feelings  we  can  all  understand,  that  he  spoke  without 


28  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

authority  from  the  chair,  which  is  contrary  to  parliamentary 
usage/'  said  Achille  Pigoult. 

"I  see  no  necessity  for  calling  the  Colonel  to  order/'  said 
Beauvisage.  "As  a  father " 

Silence  was  restored. 

"We  did  not  come  here,"  said  Fromaget,  "to  say  Amen  to 
everything  put  forward  by  the  Giguets  father  and  son " 

"No,  no!"  cried  the  audience. 

"This  looks  badly !"  said  Madame  Marion  to  the  cook. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Achille,  "I  will  confine  myself  to  asking 
my  friend  Simon  Giguet  to  set  forth  categorically  what  he 
proposes  to  do  to  further  our  interests." 

"Yes,  yes !" 

"And  when,  may  I  ask,"  said  Simon  Giguet,  "did  good 
citizens  like  the  men  of  Arcis  first  begin  to  make  the  sacred 
mission  of  a  deputy  a  matter  of  bargaining  and  business  ?" 

It  is  impossible  to  overestimate  the  effect  of  fine  sentiment 
on  a  crowd.  Noble  maxims  are  always  applauded,  and  the 
humiliation  of  the  country  voted  for  all  the  same;  just  as 
a  jail-bird  who  yearns  for  the  punishment  of  Robert  Macaire 
when  he  sees  the  play,  will  nevertheless  murder  the  first  Mon- 
sieur Germeuil  who  comes  in  his  way. 

"Hear,  hear!"  cried  some  thorough-going  partisans. 

"If  you  send  me  to  the  Chamber,  it  will  be  to  represent 
your  principles — the  principles  of  1789 — to  be  a  cipher,  if 
you  will,  of  the  Opposition ;  but  to  vote  with  it,  to  enlighten 
the  Government,  to  make  war  against  abuses,  and  insist  on 
progress  in  all  particulars " 

"But  what  do  you  call  progress?  Our  notion  of  progress 
would  be  to  bring  all  this  part  of  the  country  under  cultiva- 
tion," said  Fromaget. 

"Progress?  I  will  explain  to  you  what  I  mean  by  pro- 
gress," cried  Giguet,  provoked  by  the  interruption. 

"It  is  the  Rhine-frontier  for  France,"  said  Colonel  Giguet, 
"and  the  treaties  of  1815  torn  across." 

"It  is-  keeping  up  the  price  of  wheat  and  keeping  down 
the  price  of  bread !"  said  Pigoult  mockingly,  and  uttering 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  29 

in  jest  one  of  the  nonsensical  cries  which  France  believes  in. 

"It  is  the  happiness  of  the  multitude  achieved  by  the 
triumph  of  humanitarian  doctrines." 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  the  wily  notary  muttered  to  his 
neighbors. 

"Hush,  silence — we  want  to  hear !"  said  some. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mollot,  with  a  fat  smile,  "the  debate 
is  noisy;  give  your  attention  to  the  speaker;  allow  him  to 
explain " 

"Ba-a-a,  ba-a-aa,"  bleated  a  friend  of  Achille's,  who  was 
gifted  with  a  power  of  ventriloquism  that  was  invaluable  at 
elections. 

A  roar  of  laughter  burst  from  the  audience,  who  were  es- 
sentially men  of  their  province.  Simon  Giguet  folded  his 
arms  and  waited  till  the  storm  of  merriment  should  be  over. 

"If  that  was  intended  as  a  reproof,"  he  said,  "a  hint  that  I 
was  marching  with  the  flock  of  those  noble  defenders  of  the 
rights  of  man,  who  cry  out,  who  write  book  after  book — of 
the  immortal  priest  who  pleads  for  murdered  Poland — of 
the  bold  pamphleteers — of  those  who  keep  an  eye  on  the  civil 
list — of  the  philosophers  who  cry  out  for  honesty  in  the  action 
of  our  institutions — if  so,  I  thank  my  unknown  friend. — To 
me  progress  means  the  realization  of  all  that  was  promised 
us  at  the  Eevolution  of  July;  electoral  reform — and " 

"Then  you  are  a  democrat,"  interrupted  Achille  Pigoult. 

"No,"  replied  the  candidate.  "Am  I  a  democrat  because 
I  aim  at  a  regular  and  legal  development  of  our  institutions  ? 
To  me  progress  is  fraternity  among  all  the  members  of  the 
great  French  family,  and  we  cannot  deny  that  much  suffer- 
ing " 

At  three  o'clock  Simon  Giguet  was  still  explaining  the 
•meaning  of  progress,  and  some  of  the  audience  were  emitting 
steady  snores  expressive  of  deep  slumbers. 

Achille  Pigoult  had  artfully  persuaded  them  to  listen  in 
religious  silence  to  the  speaker,  who  was  sinking,  drowning, 
in  his  endless  phrases  and  parentheses. 


30  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

At  that  hour  several  groups  of  citizens.,  electors,  and  non- 
electors  were  standing  about  in  front  of  the  Chateau  d'Arcis. 
The  gate  opens  on  to  the  Place  at  a  right  angle  to  that  of 
Madame  Marion's  house.  Several  streets  turn  out  of  this 
square,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  stands  a  covered  market. 
Opposite  the  chateau,  on  the  further  side  of  the  square,  which 
is  neither  paved  nor  macadamized,  so  that  the  rain  runs  off  in 
little  gullies,  there  is  a  fine  avenue  known  as  the  Avenue  des 
Soupirs  (of  Sighs).  Is  this  to  the  honor  or  the  discredit 
of  the  women  of  the  town?  The  ambiguity  is,  no  doubt,  a 
local  witticism.  Two  broad  walks,  shaded  by  handsome  old 
lime-trees,  lead  from  the  market-square  to  a  boulevard  form- 
ing another  promenade,  deserted,  as  such  walks  always  are 
in  a  country  town,  and  where  stagnant  filth  takes  the  place 
of  the  bustling  crowd  of  the  capital. 

While  the  discussion  was  at  its  height,  to  which  Achille 
Pigoult  had  given  a  dramatic  turn,  with  a  coolness  and 
dexterity  worthy  of  a  member  of  the  real  Parliament,  four 
men  were  pacing  one  of  the  lime-walks  of  the  Avenue  des 
Soupirs.  When  they  came  to  the  square  they  stopped  with 
one  accord  to  watch  the  townsfolk,  who  were  buzzing  round 
the  chateau  like  bees  going  into  a  hive  at  dusk.  These  four 
were  the  whole  Ministerial  party  of  Arcis :  the  sous-pref  et,  the 
public  prosecutor,  his  deputy,  and  Monsieur  Martener,  the 
examining  judge.  The  presiding  judge  was,  as  has  already 
been  explained,  a  partisan  of  the  Elder  Branch,  and  devoted 
to  the  family  of  Cinq-Cygne. 

"Well,  I  cannot  understand  what  the  Government  is  about," 
the  sous-prefet  declared,  pointing  to  the  growing  crowd. 
"The  position  is  serious,  and  I  am  left  without  any  instruc- 
tions." 

"In  that  you  are  like  many  other  people,"  said  Olivier. 
Vinet,  smiling. 

"What  complaint  have  you  against  the  Government  ?"  asked 
the  public  prosecutor. 

"The  Ministry  is  in  a  difficulty,"  said  young  Martener. 
"It  is  well  known  that  thie  borough  belongs,  so  to  speak,  to 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  31 

the  Kellers,  and  it  has  no  wish  to  annoy  them.  Some  con- 
sideration must  be  shown  to  the  only  man  who  can  at  all 
compare  with  Monsieur  de  Talleyrand.  It  is  to  the  Comte  de 
Gondreville  that  the  police  should  go  for  instructions,  not 
to  the  prefet." 

"And  meanwhile,"  said  Frederic  Marest,  "the  Opposition 
is  making  a  stir,  and  you  see  that  Colonel  Giguet's  influence 
is  strong.  The  mayor,  Monsieur  Beauvisage,  is  in  the  chair 
at  this  preliminary  meeting." 

"After  all,"  said  Olivier  Vinet  slily  to  the  sous-prefet, 
"Simon  Giguet  is-  a  friend  of  yours,  a  school-fellow.  Even  if 
he  were  a  supporter  of  Monsieur  Thiers,  you  would  lose 
nothing  by  his  being  elected." 

"The  present  Ministry  might  turn  me  out  before  its  fall. 
We  may  know  when  we  are  likely  to  be  kicked  out,  but  we 
can  never  tell  when  we  may  get  in  again,"  said  Antonin 
Goulard. 

"There  goes  Collinet  the  grocer.  He  is  the  sixty-seventh 
qualified  elector  who  has  gone  into  Colonel  Giguet's  house/' 
said  Monsieur  Martener,  fulfilling  his  functions  as  examin- 
ing judge  by  counting  the  electors. 

"If  Charles  Keller  is  the  Ministerial  candidate,  I  ought 
to  have  been  informed,"  said  Goulard.  "Time  ought  not  to 
have  been  given  for  Simon  Giguet  to  get  hold  of  the  voters." 

The  four  gentlemen  walked  on  slowly  to  where  the  avenues 
end  at  the  market-place. 

"There  comes  Monsieur  Groslier !"  said  the  judge,  seeing  a 
man  on  horseback. 

The  horseman  was  the  superintendent  of  the  police.  He 
saw  the  governing  body  of  Arcis  assembled  on  the  highway, 
and  rode  up  to  the  four  functionaries. 

"Well,  Monsieur  Groslier?"  questioned  the  sous-prefet, 
meeting  him  at  a  few  paces  from  the  other  three. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  police-officer  in  a  low  voice,  "Mon- 
sieur le  Prefet  sent  me  to  tell  you  some  very  sad  news — the 
Vicomte  Charles  Keller  is  dead.  The  news  reached  Paris  by 
telegraph  the  day  before  yesterday ;  and  the  two  Messieurs 


32  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Keller,  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  the  Marechale  de  Carigliano, 
in  fact,  all  the  family,  came  yesterday  to  Gondreville.  Abd- 
el-Kader  has  reopened  the  fighting  in  Africa,  and  there  has 
been  some  very  hot  work.  The  poor  young  man  was  one  of 
the  first  victims  to  the  war.  You  will  receive  confidential  in- 
structions, I  was  told  to  say,  with  regard  to  the  election." 

"Through  whom?"  asked  Goulard. 

"If  I  knew,  it  would  cease  to  be  confidential,"  replied  the 
other.  "Monsieur  le  Prefet  himself  did  not  know.  'It  would 
be/  he  said,  'a.  private  communication  to  you  from  the  Min- 
ister.' '; 

And  he  went  on  his  way,  while  the  proud  and  happy  official 
laid  a  finger  to  his  lips  to  impress  on  him  to  be  secret. 

"What  news  from  the  prefecture  ?"  asked  the  public  prose- 
cutor when  Goulard  returned  to  join  the  other  three  func- 
tionaries. 

"Nothing  more  satisfactory,"  replied  Antonin,  hurrying 
on  as  if  to  be  rid  of  his  companions. 

As  they  made  their  way  towards  the  middle  of  the  square, 
saying  little,  for  the  three  officials  were  somewhat  nettled 
by  the  hasty  pace  assumed  by  the  sous-prefet,  Monsieur 
Martener  saw  old  Madame  Beauvisage,  Phileas'  mother,  sur- 
rounded by  almost  all  the  people  who  had  gathered  there, 
and  apparently  telling  them  some  long  story.  An  attorney 
named  Sinot,  whose  clients  were  the  royalists  of  the  town  and 
district,  and  who  had  not  gone  to  the  Giguet  meeting,  stepped 
out  of  the  crowd,  and  hurrying  up  to  Madame  Marion's  house, 
rang  the  bell  violently. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Frederic  Marest,  dropping 
his  eyeglass,  and  informing  the  other  two  of  this  proceeding. 

"The  matter,  gentlemen,"  replied  Antonin  Goulard,  seeing 
no  occasion  for  keeping  a  secret  which  would  at  once  be  told 
by  others,  "is  that  Charles  Keller  has  been  killed  in  Africa, 
an  event  which  gives  Simon  Giguet  every  chance ! — You  know 
Arcis;  there  could  be  no  ministerial  candidate  other  than 
Charles  Keller.  Parochial  patriotism  would  rise  in  arms 
against  any  other " 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  33 

"And  will  such  a  simpleton  be  elected?*'  asked  Olivier 
Vinet,  laughing. 

The  judge's  deputy,  a  young  fellow  of  three-and-twenty, 
the  eldest  son  of  a  very  famous  public  prosecutor,  whose 
promotion  dated  from  the  Revolution  of  July,  had,  of  course, 
been  helped  by  his  father's  interest  to  get  into  the  upper  ranks 
of  his  profession.  That  father,  still  a  public  prosecutor,  and 
returned  as  deputy  by  the  town  of  Provins,  is  one  of  the 
buttresses  of  the  Centre.  Thus  the  son,  whose  mother  had 
been  a  Mademoiselle  Chargebceuf,  had  an  assurance,  alike  in 
his  official  work  and  his  demeanor,  which  proclaimed  his 
father's  influence.  He  expressed  his  opinions  unhesitatingly 
on  men  and  things,  for  he  counted  on  not  remaining  long  at 
Arcis,  but  on  getting  a  place  as  public  prosecutor  at  Ver- 
sailles, the  infallible  stepping-stone  to  an  appointment  in 
Paris. 

The  free-and-easy  air,  and  the  sort  of  judicial  conceit  as- 
sumed by  this  personage  on  the  strength  of  his  certainty  of 
"getting  on,"  annoyed  Frederic  Marest,  and  all  the  more 
because  a  very  biting  wit  effectually  supported  his  young  sub- 
altern's undisciplined  freedom.  The  public  prosecutor  him- 
self, a  man  of  forty,  who  had  waited  six  years  under  the  Res- 
toration to  rise  to  the  post  of  first  deputy  judge,  and  whom  the 
Revolution  of  July  had  left  stranded  at  Arcis,  though  he 
had  eighteen  thousand  francs  a  year  of  his  own,  was  always 
torn  between  his  anxiety  to  win  the  good  graces  of  the  elder 
Vinet,  who  had  every  chance  of  becoming  Keeper  of  the  Seals 
— an  office  commonly  conferred  on  a  lawyer  who  sits  in  Par- 
liament— and  the  necessity  for  preserving  his  own  dignity. 
Olivier  Vinet,  a  thin  stripling,  with  fair  hair  and  a  colorless 
face,  accentuated  by  a  pair  of  mischievous  greenish  eyes,  was 
one  of  those  mocking  spirits,  fond  of  pleasure,  who  can  at 
any  moment  assume  the  precise,  pedantic,  and  rather  abrupt 
manner  which  a  magistrate  puts  on  when  in  Court. 

The  burly  public  prosecutor,  very  stout  and  solemn, 
had,  for  a  short  time  past,  adopted  a  method  by  which,  as  he 


34  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

hoped,  to  get  the  upper  hand  of  this  distracting  youth:  he 
treated  him  as  a  father  treats  a  spoilt  child. 

"Olivier,"  said  he  to  his  deputy,  patting  him  on  the 
shoulder,  "a  man  as  clear-sighted  as  you  are  must  see  that 
Maitre  Giguet  is  likely  enough  to  be  elected.  You  might  have 
blurted  out  that  speech  before  the  townsfolk  instead  of  among 
friends." 

"But  there  is  one  thing  against  Giguet,"  remarked  Mon- 
sieur Martener. 

This  worthy  young  fellow,  dull,  but  with  very  capable 
brains,  the  son  of  a  doctor  at  Provins,  owed  his  position  to 
Vinet's  father,  who  during  the  long  years  when  he  had  been  a 
pleader  at  Provins,  had  patronized  the  townsfolk  there  as  the 
Comte  de  Gondreville  did  those  of  Arcis. 

"What?"  asked  Antonin. 

"Parochial  feeling  is  tremendously  strong  against  a  man 
who  is  forced  on  the  electors,"  replied  the  judge ;  "but  when, 
in  a  place  like  Arcis,  the  alternative  is  the  elevation  of  one 
of  their  equals,  jealousy  and  envy  get  the  upper  hand  even  of 
local  feeling." 

"That  seems  simple  enough,"  said  the  public  prosecutor, 
"but  it  is  perfectly  true.  If  you  could  secure  only  fifty  Min- 
isterial votes,  you  would  not  unlikely  find  the  first  favorite 
here,"  and  he  glanced  at  Antonin  Goulard. 

"It  will  be  enough  to  set  up  a  candidate  of  the  same  calibre 
to  oppose  Simon  Giguet,"  said  Olivier  Vinet. 

The  sous-prefet's  face  betrayed  such  satisfaction  as  could 
not  escape  the  eye  of  either  of  his  companions,  with  whom, 
indeed,  he  was  on  excellent  terms.  Bachelors  all,  and  all  well 
to  do,  they  had  without  premeditation  formed  a  defensive 
alliance  to  defy  the  dulness  of  a  country  town.  The  other 
three  were  already  aware  of  Goulard's  jealousy  of  Giguet, 
which  a  few  words  here  will  suffice  to  account  for. 

Antonin  Goulard,  whose  father  had  been  a  huntsman  in 
the  service  of  the  Simeuse  family,  enriched  by  investments 
in  nationalized  land,  was,  like  Simon  Giguet,  a  native  of 
Arcis.  Old  Goulard  left  the  Abbey  of  Valpreux — a  oorrup- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  35 

tion  of  Val-des-Preux — to  live  in  the  town  after  his  wife's 
death,  and  sent  his  son  Antonin  to  school  at  the  Lycee  Im- 
perial, where  Colonel  Giguet  had  placed  his  boy.  The  two  lads, 
after  being  school-fellows,  went  together  to  Paris  to  study  law, 
and,  their  friendship  persisting,  they  took  their  amusements 
together.  They  promised  to  help  each  other  in  life,  since  they 
adopted  different  branches  of  their  profession;  but  fate  de- 
cided that  they  were  to  become  rivals. 

In  spite  of  his  sufficiently  evident  personal  advantages, 
and  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  which  the  Count  had 
obtained  for  Goulard  to  compensate  him  for  lack  of  promo- 
tion, and  which  he  displayed  at  his  button-hole,  the  offer  of 
his  heart  and  prospects  had  been  civilly  declined  when,  six 
months  before  the  day  when  this  narrative  opens',  Antonin 
had  secretly  called  on  Madame  Beauvisage  as  her  daughter's 
suitor.  But  no  step  of  this  kind  is  a  secret  in  the  country. 
Frederic  Marest,  whose  fortune,  whose  order,  and  whose  posi- 
tion were  the  same  three  years  before,  had  then  been  also  dis- 
missed on  the  score  of  disparity  of  years.  Hence  both 
Goulard  and  the  public  prosecutor  were  never  more  than 
strictly  polite  to  the  Beauvisages,  and  made  fun  of  them 
between  themselves. 

As  they  walked  just  now,  they  both  had  guessed,  and  had 
told  each  other,  the  secret  of  Simon  Giguet's  candidature,  for 
they  had  got  wind,  the  night  before,  of  Madame  Marion's 
ambitions.  Animated  alike  by  the  spirit  of  the  dog  in  the 
manger,  they  were  tacitly  but  heartily  agreed  in  a  determina- 
tion to  hinder  the  young  lawyer  from  winning  the  wealthy 
heiress  who  had  been  refused  to  them. 

"Heaven  grant  that  I  may  be  able  to  control  the  election !" 
said  the  sous-prefet,  "and  the  Comte  de  Gondreville  may 
get  me  appointed  prefet,  for  I  have  no  more  wish  to  remain 
here  than  you  have,  though  I  am  a  native  born." 

"You  have  a  very  good  opportunity  of  being  elected  dep- 
uty, sir,"  said  Olivier  Vinet  to  Marest.  "Come  and  see  my 
father,  who  will,  no  doubt,  arrive  at  Provins  within  a  few 
hours,  and  we  will  get  him  to  have  you  nominated  as  the 
Ministerial  candidate." 


36  THE  MEMBER  FOR  AKCIS 

"Stay  where  you  are/'  said  Goulard.  "The  Ministry  has 
ideas  of  its  own  as  to  its  candidate " 

"Pooh!  Why,  there  are  two  Ministries — one  that  hopes 
to  control  the  election,  and  one  that  means  to  profit  by  it," 
said  Vinet. 

"Do  not  complicate  Antonin's  difficulties,"  replied  Fre- 
deric Marest,  with  a  knowing  wink  to  his  deputy. 

The  four  officials,  now  far  away  from  the  Avenue  des  Sou- 
pirs,  crossed  the  market-place  to  the  Mulet  inn  on  seeing 
Poupart  come  out  of  Madame  Marion's  house.  At  that  mo- 
ment, in  fact,  the  sixty-seven  conspirators  were  pouring 
out  of  the  carriage  gate. 

"And  you  have  been  into  that  house?"  asked  Antonin 
Goulard,  'pointing  to  the  wall  of  the  Marion's  garden,  back- 
ing on  the  Brienne  road  opposite  the  stables  of  the  Mulet. 

"And  I  go  there  no  more,  Monsieur  le  Sous-prefet,"  re- 
turned the  innkeeper.  "Monsieur  Keller's  son  is  dead;  I 
have  nothing  more  to  do  with  it.  God  has  made  it  his  bus- 
iness to  clear  the  way " 

"Well,  Pigoult?"  said  Olivier  Vinet,  seeing  the  whole 
of  the  Opposition  coming  out  from  the  meeting. 

"Well,"  echoed  the  notary,  on  whose  brow  the  moisture 
still  testified  to  the  energy  of  his  efforts,  "Sinot  has  just 
brought  us  news  which  resulted  in  unanimity.  With  the 
exception  of  five  dissidents — Poupart,  my  grandfather,  Mol- 
lot,  Sinot  and  myself — they  have  all  sworn,  as  at  a  game 
of  tennis,  to  use  every  means  in  their  power  to  secure  the 
return  of  Simon  Giguet — of  whom  I  have  made  a  mortal 
enemy. — We  all  got  very  heated !  At  any  rate,  I  got  the 
Giguets  to  fulminate  against  the  Gondrevilles,  so  the  old 
Count  will  side  with  me.  Not  later  than  to-morrow  he 
shall  know  what  the  self-styled  patriots  of  Arcis  said  about 
him,  and  his  corruption,  and  his  infamous  conduct,  so  as 
to  shake  off  his  protection,  or,  as  they  say,  his  yoke." 

"And  they  are  unanimous?"  said  Vinet,  with  a  smile. 

"To-day,"  replied  Monsieur  Martener. 

"Oh!"  cried  Pigoult,  "the  general  feeling  is  in  favor  of 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  37 

electing  a  man  of  the  'place.  Whom  can  you  find  to  set  up 
in  opposition  to  Simon  Giguet,  who  has  spent  two  mortal 
hours  in  preaching  on  the  word  Progress !" 

"We  can  find  old  Grevin !"  cried  the  sous-prefet. 

"He  has  no  ambition,"  said  Pigoult.  "But  first  and  fore- 
most we  must  consult  the  Count. — Just  look,"  he  went  on, 
"how  attentively  Simon  is  taking  care  of  that  old  noodle 
Beauvisage !" 

And  he  pointed  to  the  lawyer,  who  had  the  mayor  by  the 
arm,  and  was  talking  in  his  ear. 

Beauvisage  bowed  right  and  left  to  all  the  inhabitants,  who 
gazed  at  him  with  the  deference  of  country  townspeople 
for  the  richest  man  in  the  place. 

"He  treats  him  as  a  father — and  mother !"  remarked  Vinet. 

"Oh !  he  will  do  no  good  by  buttering  him  up,"  replied 
Pigoult,  who  caught  the  hint  conveyed  in  Vinet's  retort. 
"Cecile's  fate  does  not  rest  with  either  father  or  mother." 

"With  whom,  then  ?" 

"My  old  master.  If  Simon  were  the  member  for  Arcis, 
he  would  be  no  forwarder  in  that  matter." 

Though  the  sous-prefet  and  Marest  pressed  Pigoult  hard, 
they  could  get  no  explanation  of  this  remark,  which,  as 
they  shrewdly  surmised,  was  big  with  meaning,  and  re- 
vealed some  acquaintance  with  the  intentions  of -the  Beau- 
visage  family. 

All  Arcis  was  in  a  pother,  not  only  in  consequence  of  the 
distressing  news  that  had  stricken  the  Gondrevilles,  but  also 
because  of  the  great  resolution  voted  at  the  Giguets' — where, 
at  this  moment,  Madame  Marion  and  the  servants  were  hard 
at  work  restoring  order,  that  everything  might  be  in  readi- 
ness for  the  company  who  would  undoubtedly  drop  in  as  usual 
in  the  evening  in  full  force,  attracted  by  curiosity. 

•  Champagne  looks,  and  is,  but  a  poor  country.  Its  aspect 
is  for  the  most  part  dreary,  a  dull  plain.  As  you  pass 
through  the  villages,  or  even  the  towns,  you  see  none  but 
shabby  buildings  of  timber  or  concrete;  the  handsomest  are 
of  brick.  Stone  is  scarcely  used  even  for  public  build- 


38  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

ings.  At  Arcis  the  chateau,  the  Palais  de  Justice,  and  the 
church  are  the  only  edifices  constructed  of  stone.  Never- 
theless, the  province — or,  at  any  rate,  the  departments  of  the 
Aube,  the  Marne,  and  the  Haute-Marne,  rich  in  the  vine- 
yards which  are  famous  throughout  the  world — also  support 
many  flourishing  industries.  To  say  nothing  of  the  manu- 
facturing centre  at  Reims,  almost  all  the  hosiery  of  every  kind 
produced  in  France,  a  very  considerable  trade,  is  woven  in  and 
near  Troyes.  For  ten  leagues  round,  the  country  is  inhabited 
by  stocking-weavers,  whose  frames  may  be  seen  through  the 
open  doors  as  you  pass  through  the  hamlets.  These  workers 
deal  through  factors  with  the  master  speculator,  who  calls 
himself  a  manufacturer.  The  manufacturer  sells  to  Paris 
houses,  or  more  often,  to  retail  hosiers,  who  stick  up  a  sign 
proclaiming  themselves  manufacturing  hosiers. 

None  of  these  middlemen  ever  made  a  stocking,  or  a  night- 
cap, or  a  sock.  A  large  proportion  of  such  gear  comes  from 
Champagne — not  all,  for  there  are  weavers  in  Paris  who  com- 
pete with  the  country  workers. 

These  middlemen,  coming  between  the  producer  and  the 
consumer,  are  a  curse  not  peculiar  to  this  trade.  It  exists  in 
most  branches  of  commerce,  and  adds  to  the  price  of  the 
goods  all  the  profit  taken  by  the  intermediary.  To  do  away 
with  these,  expensive  go-betweens,  who  hinder  the  direct  sale 
of  manufactured  goods,  would  be  a  benevolent  achievement, 
and  the  magnitude  of  the  results  would  raise  it  to  the  level 
of  a  great  political  reform.  Industry  at  large  would  be 
benefited,  for  it  would  bring  about  such  a  reduction  of  prices 
to  the  home-consumer  as  is  needed  to  maintain  the  struggle 
against  foreign  competition,  a  battle  as  murderous  as  that 
of  hostile  armies. 

But  the  overthrow  of  such  an  abuse  as  this  would  not 
secure  to  our  modern  philanthropists  such  glory  or  such 
profit  as  are  to  be  obtained  by  fighting  for  the  Dead  Sea 
apples  of  negro  emancipation,  or  the  penitentiary  system; 
hence  this  illicit  commerce  of  the  middleman,  the  producer's 
banker,  will  weigh  for  a  long  time  yet  on  the  workers  and 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  39 

consumers  alike.  In  France — so  clever  as  a  nation — it  is 
always  supposed  that  simplification  means  destruction.  We 
are  etill  frightened  by  the  Revolution  of  1789. 

The  industrial  energy  that  always  thrives  in  a  land  where 
Nature  is  a  grudging  step-dame,  sufficiently  shows  what 
progress  agriculture  would  make  there  if  only  wealth  would 
join  its  partnership  with  the  land,  which  is  not  more  barren 
in  Champagne  than  in  Scotland,  where  the  outlay  of  capital 
has  worked  miracles.  And  when  agriculture  shall  have  con- 
quered the  unfertile  tracts  of  that  province,  when  industry 
shall  have  scattered  a  little  capital  on  the  chalk  fields  of 
Champagne,  prosperity  will  multiply  threefold.  The  land  is, 
in  fact,  devoid  of  luxury,  and  the  dwelling-houses  are  bare; 
but  English  comfort  will  find  its  way  thither,  money  will 
acquire  that  rapid  circulation  which  is  half  of  what  makes 
wealth,  and  which  is  now  beginning  in  many  of  the  torpid 
districts  of  France. 

Writers,  officials,  the  Church  from  its  pulpits,  the  Press 
•in  its  columns — all  to  whom  chance  has  given  any  kind  of 
influence  over  the  masses — ought  to  proclaim  it  again  and 
again:  "Hoarding  is  a  social  crime."  The  miserliness  of 
the  provinces  stagnates  the  vitality  of  the  industrial  mass, 
and  impairs  the  health  of  the  nation.  The  little  town  of 
Arcis,  for  instance,  on  the  way  to  nowhere,  and  apparently 
sunk  in  complete  quiescence,  is  comparatively  rich  in  the 
possession  of  capital  slowly  amassed  in  the  hosiery  trade. 

Monsieur  Phileas  Beauvisage  was  the  Alexander — or,  if 
you  will,  the  Attila — of  his  native  town.  This  is  how  that 
respectable  and  hardworking  man  had  conquered  the  dominion 
of  cotton.  He  was  the  only  surviving  child  of  the  Beau- 
visages,  long  settled  on  the  fine  farm  of  Bellache,  part  of  the 
Gondreville  estate;  and  in  1811  his  parents  made  a  con- 
siderable sacrifice  to  save  him  from  the  conscription  by  pur- 
chasing a  substitute.  Then  his  mother,  as  a  widow,  had 
again,  in  1813,  rescued  her  only  son  from  being  enlisted 
in  the  Guards  by  the  good  offices  of  the  Comte  de  Gondre- 
ville. 


40  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

In  1813  Phileas,  then  twenty-one,  had  for  three  years  past 
been  engaged  in  the  pacific  busiaess  of  a  hosier.  The  lease 
of  the  farm  of  Bellache  having  run  out,  the  farmer's  widow 
decided  that  she  would  not  renew  it.  In  fact,  she  foresaw 
ample  occupation  for  her  old  age  in  watching  the  investment 
of  her  money. 

That  her  later  days  might  not  be  disturbed  by  anxiety,  she 
had  a  complete  valuation  made  by  Monsieur  Grevin,  the 
notary,  of  all  her  husband's  estate,  though  her  son  had  made 
no  claims  on  her ;  and  his  share  was  found  to  amount  to  about 
a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs.  The  good  woman  had 
not  to  sell  her  land,  most  of  it  purchased  from  Michu,  the 
luckless  steward  of  the  Simeuse  family.  She  paid  her  son  in 
cash,  advising  him  to  buy  up  his  master's  business.  This  old 
Monsieur  Pigoult  was  the  son  of  the  old  justice  of  the  peace, 
and  his  affairs  were  already  in  such  disorder  that  his  death, 
as  has  been  hinted,  was  supposed  to  have  been  due  to  his  own 
act. 

Phileas  Beauvisage,  a  prudent  youth,  with  a  proper  respect 
for  his  mother,  had  soon  concluded  the  bargain;  and  as  he 
inherited  from  his  parents  the  bump  of  acquisitiveness,  as 
phrenologists  term  it,  his  youthful  zeal  was  thrown  into  the 
business,  which  seemed  to  him  immense,  and  which  he  pro- 
posed to  extend  by  speculation. 

The  Christian  name  Phileas,  which  may,  perhaps,  seem 
extraordinary,  was  one  of  the  many  whimsical  results  of  the 
Eevolution.  The  Beauvisages,  as  connected  with  the  Simeuses, 
and  consequently  good  Catholics,  had  their  infant  baptized. 
The  cure  of  Cinq-Cygne,  the  Abbe  Goujet,  being  consulted 
by  the  farmers,  advised  them  to  take  Phileas  as  his  patron 
saint,  his  Greek  name  being  likely  to  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
the  municipality,  for  the  boy  was  born  at  a  time  when  chil- 
dren were  registered  by  the  strange  names  in  the  Eepublican 
calendar. 

In  1814,  hosiery — as  a  rule,  a  fairly  regular  trade — was 
liable  to  all  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  cotton  market.  The 
price  of  cotton  depended  on  the  Emperor's  successes  or  de- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  41 

feats;  his  adversaries,  the  English  generals  in  Spain,  would 
say,  "The  town  is  ours ;  send  up  the  bales."  Pigoult,  Phileas' 
retiring  master,  supplied  his  weavers  in  the  country  with 
yarns.  At  the  time  when  he  sold  his  business  to  young  Beau- 
visage,  he  had  in  stock  a  large  supply  of  cotton  yarns,  pur- 
chased when  they  were  at  the  dearest,  while  cotton  was  now 
being  brought  in  through  Lisbon  in  vast  quantities  at  six 
sous  the  kilogramme,  in  virtue  of  the  Emperor's  famous 
decree.  The  reaction  in  France,  caused  by  the  importation 
of  this  cheap  cotton,  brought  about  Pigoult's  death,  and  laid 
the  foundation  of  Beauvisage's  fortune;  for  he,  instead  of 
losing  his  head  like  his  old  master,  bought  up  twice  as  much 
cotton  as  his  predecessor  had  in  stock,  and  so  struck  a  medium 
average  price.  This  simple  transaction  enabled  Phileas  to 
triple  his  output  of  manufactured  goods,  while  apparently  a 
benefactor  to  the  workers;  and  he  could  sell  his  produce  in 
Paris  and  the  provinces  at  a  profit  when  others  were  merely 
recovering  the  cost  price.  By  the  beginning  of  1814  his 
manufactured  stock  was  exhausted. 

The  prospect  of  war  on  French  soil,  which  would  be 
especially  disastrous  to  Champagne,  made  him  cautious.  He 
manufactured  no  more  goods,  and  by  realizing  his  capital  in 
solid  gold,  stood  prepared  for  the  event.  At  that  time  the 
custom-houses  were  a  dead  letter.  Napoleon  had  been  obliged 
to  enlist  his  thirty  thousand  customs  officials  to  defend  the 
country.  Cotton,  smuggled  in  through  a  thousand  gaps  in 
the  hedge,  was  flung  into  every  market.  It  is  impossible 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  liveliness  and  cunning  of  cotton  at  that 
date,  or  of  the  avidity  with  which  the  English  clutched  at  a 
country  where  cotton  stockings  were  worth  six  francs  a  pair, 
and  cambric  shirts  were  an  article  of  luxury. 

Manufacturers  on  a  smaller  scale  and  the  master  work- 
men, counting  on  Napoleon's  genius  and  luck,  had  invested 
in  cotton  coming  through  Spain.  This  they  were  working 
up,  in  the  hope  of  presently  dictating  terms  to  the  Paris  retail 
shops.  All  this  Phileas  noted.  Then,  when  the  province 
was  devastated  by  war,  he  stood  between  the  army  and  Paris. 


42  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

As  each  battle  was  lost  he  went  to  the  weavers  who  had  hidden 
their  goods  in  casks — silos  of  hosiery — and,  cash  in  hand, 
this  Cossack  of  the  trade,  going  from  village  to  village, 
bought  up,  below  cost  price,  these  barrels  of  stockings, 
which  might  fall  any  day  into  the  hands  of  foes  whose  feet 
wanted  covering  as  badly  as  their  throats  wanted  liquor. 

At  this  period  of  disaster,  Phileas  displayed  a  degree  of 
energy  that  was  almost  a  match  for  the  Emperor's.  This 
captain  of  the  hosiery  trade  fought  the  commercial  campaign 
of  1814  with  a  courage  that  remains  unrecognized.  One 
league  behind,  wherever  the  General  was  one  league  in  ad- 
vance, he  bought  up  cotton  nightcaps  and  stockings  as  his 
trophies,  while  the  Emperor  in  his  reverses  plucked  immortal 
palms.  The  genius  was  equal  in  both,  though  exercised  in 
widely  different  spheres,  since  one  was  eager  to  cover  as  many 
heads  as  the  other  hoped  to  fell.  Compelled  to  create  means 
of  transport  to  save  his  casks  full  of  stockings,  which  he  stored 
iq  a  Paris  suburb,  Phileas  often  requisitioned  horses  and 
wagons,  as  though  the  safety  of  the  Empire  depended  on 
him.  And  was  not  the  majesty  of  Trade  as  good  as  that  of 
Napoleon?  Had  not  the  English  merchants,  after  subsidiz- 
ing Europe,  got  the  upper  hand  of  the  giant  who  threatened 
their  ships? 

While  the  Emperor  was  abdicating  at  Fontainebleau, 
Phileas  was  the  triumphant  master  of  the  "article."  As  a 
result  of  his  clever  manreuvres,  the  price  of  cotton  was  kept 
down,  and  he  had  doubled  his  fortune  when  many  manufac- 
turers thought  themselves  lucky  to  get  rid  of  their  goods  at 
a  loss  of  fifty  per  cent.  He  returned  to  Arcis  with  three 
hundred  thousand  francs,  half  of  which,  invested  in  the 
Funds,  brought  him  fifteen  thousand  francs  a  year.  One 
hundred  thousand  he  used  to  double  the  capital  needed  for 
his  business;  and  he  spent  the  remainder  in  building,  decorat- 
ing, and  furnishing  a  fine  house  in  the  Place  du  Pont,  at 
Arcis. 

On  his  return  in  triumph,  the  hosier  naturally  confided 
hie  story  to  Monsieur  Grevin.  The  notary  had  a  daughter 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  43 

to  marry,  just  twenty  years  of  age.  Grevin's  father-in-law, 
who  for  forty  years  had  practised  as  a  doctor  at  Arcis,  was 
at  that  time  still  alive.  Grevin  was  a  widower;  he  knew 
that  old  Madame  Beauvisage  was  rich;  he  believed  in  the 
energy  and  capacity  of  a  young  man  who  had  thus  boldly 
utilized  the  campaign  of  1814.  Severine  Grevin's  fortune 
from  her  mother  was  sixty  thousand  francs.  What  was 
old  Dr.  Varlet  to  leave  her  ?  As  much  again,  at  most ! 
Grevin  was  already  fifty ;  he  was  very  much  afraid  of  dying ; 
he  saw  no  chance,  after  the  ^Restoration,  of  marry- 
ing his  daughter  as  he  would  wish — for  her  he  was  am- 
bitious. 

Under  these  circumstances,  he  contrived  to  have  it  suggested 
to  Phileas  that  he  should  propose  for  Severine.  Made- 
moiselle Grevin,  well  brought  up  and  handsome,  was  regarded 
as  one  of  the  good  matches  of  the  town.  Also,  the  connection 
with  the  most  intimate  friend  of  the  Comte  de  Gondreville, 
who  retained  his  dignity  as  a  peer  of  France,  was,  of  course, 
an  honor  for  the  son  of  one  of  the  Gondreville  farmers.  The 
widow  would,  indeed,  have  made  a  sacrifice  to  achieve  it.  But 
when  she  heard  that  her  son's  suit  was  successful,  she  held 
her  hand,  and  gave  him  nothing,  an  act  of  prudence  in  which 
the  notary  followed  suit.  And  thus  the  marriage  was  brought 
about  between  the  son  of  the  farmer  who  had  been  so  faithful 
to  the  Simeuses,  and  the  daughter  of  one  of  their  most  de- 
termined enemies.  This,  perhaps,  was  the  only  instance  in 
which  Louis  XVIII. 's  motto  found  application — "Union  et 
oubli"  (union  and  oblivion). 

When  the  Bourbons  returned  for  the  second  time,  old  Dr. 
Varlet  died,  at  the  age  of  seventy-six,  leaving  in. his  cellar 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  in  gold,  besides  other  property 
valued  at  an  equal  sum.  Thus,  in  1816,  Phileas  and  his 
wife  found  themselves  possessed  of  thirty  thousand  franca  a 
year,  apart  from  the  profits  of  the  business ;  for  Grevin  wished 
to  invest  his  daughter's  money  in  land,  and  Beauvisage  made 
no  objection.  The  interest  on  Severine  Grevin's  share  of 
her  grandfather's  money  amounted  to  scarcely  fifteen  thou- 


44  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

sand  francs  a  year,  in  spite  of  the  good  opportunities  for  in- 
vestment which  Grevin  kept  a  lookout  for. 

The  first  two  years  of  married  life  were  enough  to  show 
Grevin  and  his  .daughter  how  incapable  Phileas  really  was. 
The  hawk's  eye  of  commercial  greed  had  seemed  to  be  the 
effect  of  superior  capacity,  and  the  old  notary  had  mistaken 
youthfulness  for  power,  and  luck  for  a  talent  for  business. 
But  though  Phileas  could  read  and  write,  and  do  sums  to 
admiration,  he  had  never  read  a  book.  Miserably  ignorant, 
conversation  with  him  was  out  of  the  question ;  he  could  re- 
spond by  a  deluge  of  commonplace,  expressed  pleasantly 
enough.  But,  as  the  son  of  a  farmer,  he  was  not  wanting  in 
commercial  acumen. 

Other  men  must  be  plain  with  him,  clear  and  explicit; 
but  he  never  was  the  same  to  his  adversary. 

Tender  and  kind-hearted,  Phileas  wept  at  the  least  touch 
of  pathos.  This  made  him  reverent  to  his  wife,  whose 
superiority  filled  him  with  unbounded  admiration.  Severine, 
a  woman  of  brains,  knew  everything — according  to  Phileas. 
And  she  was  all  the  more  accurate  in  her  judgments  because 
she  consulted  her  father  on  every  point.  Also,  she  had  a 
very  firm  temper,  and  this  made  her  absolute  mistress  in  her 
own  house.  As  soon  as  this  point  was  gained,  the  old  notary 
felt  less  regret  at  seeing  his  daughter  happy  through  a  mastery 
which  is  always  gratifying  to  a  wife  of  determined  character. 
— Still,  there  was  the  woman ! 

This,  it  was  said,  was  what  befell  the  woman. 

At  the  time  of  the  reaction  of  1815,  a  certain  Vicomte 
de  Chargebo3uf,  of  the  poorer  branch,  was  appointed  sous- 
prefet  at.Arcis  by  the  influence  of  the  Marquise  de  Cinq- 
Cygne,  to  whom  he  was  related.  This  young  gentleman  re- 
mained there  as  sous-prefet  for  five  years.  Handsome  Ma- 
dame Beauvisage,  it  was  said,  had  something  to  do  with  the 
long  stay — much  too  long  for  his  advantage — made  by  the 
Vicomte  in  this  small  post.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  at  once 
be  said  that  these  hints  were  never  justified  by  the  scandals 
which  betray  such  love-affairs,  so  difficult  to  conceal  from  the 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  45 

Argus  eyes  of  a  small  country  town.  "If  Severine  loved 
the  Vicomte  de  Chargebceuf,  if  he  loved  her,  it  was  a  blame- 
less and  honorable  attachment/'  said  all  the  friends  of-  the 
Grevins  and  the  Marions.  And  these  two  sets  imposed  their 
opinion  on  the  immediate  neighborhood.  But  the  Grevins 
and  the  Marions  had  no  influence  over  the  Royalists,  and  the 
Eoyalists  declared  that  the  sous-prefet  was  a  happy  man. 

As  soon  as  the  Marquise  de  Cinq-Cygne  heard  what  was 
rumored  as  to  her  young  relation,  she  sent  for  him  to  Cinq- 
Cygne;  and  so  great  was  her  horror  of  all  who  were  ever 
so  remotely  connected  with  the  actors  in  the  judicial  tragedy 
that  had  been  so  fatal  to  her  family,  that  she  desired  the  Vis- 
count to  live  elsewhere.  She  got  him  appointed  to  Sancerre 
as  sous-prefet,  promising  to  secure  his  promotion.  Some 
acute  observers  asserted  that  the  Viscount  had  pretended 
to  be  in  love,  so  as  to  be  made  prefet,  knowing  how  deeply 
the  Marquise  hated  the  name  of  Grevin.  Others,  on  the  other 
hand,  remarked  011  the  coincidence  of  the  Vicomte  de  Charge- 
boeuf's  visits  to  Paris  with  those  made  by  Madame  Beauvisage 
under  the  most  trivial  pretexts.  An  impartial  historian 
would  find  it  very  difficult  to  form  an  opinion  as  to  facts 
thus  enwrapped  in  the  mystery  of  private  life. 

A  single  circumstance  seemed  to  turn  the  scale  in  favor 
of  scandal.  Cecile  Renee  Beauvisage  was  born  in  1820, 
when  Monsieur  de  Chargeboeuf  was  leaving  Arcis,  and  one  of 
the  sous-prefet's  names  was  Rene.  The  name  was  given 
her  by  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  her  godfather.  If  the 
mother  had  raised  any  objection  to  her  child's  having  that 
name,  she  might  possibly  have  confirmed  these  suspicions; 
and  as  the  world  must  always  be  in  the  right,  this  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  little  bit  of  mischief  on  the  part  of  the  old 
peer.  Madame  Keller,  the  Count's  daughter,  was  the  god- 
mother, and  her  name  was  Cecile. 

As  to  Cecile  Renee  Beauvisage's  face,  the  likeness  is  strik- 
ing ! — not  to  her  father  or  her  mother ;  as  time  goes  on,  she 
has  become  the  living  image  of  the  Viscount,  even  to  his 
aristocratic  manner.  This  likeness,  moral  and  physical,  has 


46  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

however  escaped  the  ken  of  the  good  folks  of  Arcis,  for  the 
Vicomte  never  returned  there. 

At  any  rate,  Severine  made  Phileas  happy  in  his  own  way. 
He  was  fond  of  good  living  and  the  comforts  of  life;  she 
gave  him  the  choicest  wines,  a  table  fit  for  a  bishop,  catered 
for  by  the  best  cook  in  the  department;  but  she  made  no 
display  of  luxury,  keeping  house  in  the  style  required  by 
the  plain  citizens  of  Arcis.  It  was  a  saying  at  Arcis  that 
you  should  dine  with  Madame  Beauvisage,  and  spend  the 
evening  with  Madame  Marion. 

The  importance  to  which  the  House  of  Cinq-Cygne  was  at 
once  raised  by  the  Eestoration  had  naturally  tightened  the 
bonds  that  held  together  all  the  families  in  the  district  who 
had  been  in  any  way  concerned  in  the  trial  as  to  the  temporary 
disappearance  of  Gondreville.  The  Marions,  the  Grevins, 
and  the  Giguets  held  together  all  the  more  closely  because, 
to  secure  the  triumph  of  their  so-called  constitutional  party 
at  the  coming  elections,  harmonious  co-operation  would  be 
necessary. 

Severine,  of  aforethought,  kept  Beauvisage  busy  with  his 
hosiery  trade,  from  which  any  other  man  might  have  retired, 
sending  him  to  Paris  or  about  the  country  on  business.  In- 
deed, till  1830,  Phileas,  who  thus  found  work  for  his  bump 
of  acquisitiveness,  earned  every  year  as  much  as  he  spent,  be- 
sides the  interest  on  his  capital,  while  taking  things  easy 
and  doing  his  work  in  slippers,  as  they  say.  Hence,  the  in- 
terest and  fortune  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Beauvisage,  in- 
vested for  fifteen  years  past  by  the  constant  care  of  old 
Grevin,  would  amount,  in  1830,  to  five  hundred  thousand 
francs.  This,  in  fact,  was  at  that  time  Cecile's  marriage- 
portion  ;  and  the  old  notary  invested  it  in  three  and  a  half  per 
cents  bought  at  fifty,  and  so  yielding  thirty  thousand  francs 
a  year.  So  no  one  was  mistaken  when  estimating  the  fortune 
of  the  Beauvisages  at  a  guess  at  eighty  thousand  francs  a 
year. 

In  1830  they  sold  the  business  to  Jean  Violette,  one  of 
their  agents,  the  grandson  of  one  of  the  most  important 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  47 

witnesses  for  the  prosecution  in  the  Simeuse  trial,  and  had 
invested  the  purchase-money,  estimated  at  three  hundred 
thousand  francs.  And  Monsieur  and  Madame  Beauvisage 
had  still  in  prospect  the  money  that  would  come  to  them  from 
old  Grevin  and  from  the  old  farmer's  widow,  each  supposed 
to  be  worth  fifteen  to  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year. 

These  great  provincial  fortunes  are  the  product  of  time 
multiplied  by  economy.  Thirty  years  of  old  age  are  in 
themselves  a  capital.  Even  if  they  gave  Cecile  a  portion  of 
fifty  thousand  francs  a  year,  Monsieur  and  Madame  Beau- 
visage  would  still  inherit  two  fortunes,  besides  keeping  thirty 
thousand  francs  a  year  and  their  house  at  Arcis. 

As  soon  as  the  old  Marquise  de  Cinq-Cygne  should  die, 
Cecile  would  be  an  acceptable  match  for  the  young  Marquis ; 
but  that  lady's  health — strong,  and  almost  handsome  still 
at  the  age  of  sixty — negatived  any  such  hope,  if,  indeed,  it 
had  ever  entered  into  the  mind  of  Grevin  and  his  daughter, 
as  some  persons  asserted  who  were  surprised  at  the  rejection 
of  suitors  so  eligible  as  the  sous-prefet  and  the  public  pros- 
ecutor. 

The  house  built  by  Beauvisage,  one  of  the  handsomest  in 
Arcis,  stands  in  the  Place  du  Pont,  in  a  line,  with  the  Hue 
Vide-Bourse,  and  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du  Pont,  which 
slopes  up  to  the  Church  Square.  Though,  like  many 
provincial  town-houses,  it  has  neither  forecourt  nor  garden, 
it  has  a  rather  good  effect  in  spite  of  some  bad  taste  in  the 
decorations.  The  house  door — a  double  door — opens  from 
the  street.  The  windows  on  the  ground  floor  overlook  the 
Paste  inn,  on  the  street  side,  and  on  the  side  towards  the 
Square  have  a  view  of  the  picturesque  reaches  of  the  Aube, 
which  is  navigable  below  this  bridge.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  bridge  is  a  corresponding  place  or  square.  Here 
stood  Monsieur  Grevin's  house,  and  here  begins  the  road  to 
Sezanne. 

The  Maison  Beauvisage,  carefully  painted  white,  might 
pass  for  being  built  of  stone.  Tho  height  of  the  windows, 
and  the  enriched  outside  mouldings,  contribute  to  give  the 


48  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

building  a  certain  style,  enhanced,  no  doubt,  by  the  poverty- 
stricken  appearance  of  most  of  the  houses  in  the  town,  con- 
structed as  they  are  of  timber,  and  coated  with  stucco  made 
to  imitate  stone.  Still,  even  these  dwellings  have  a  stamp 
of  originality,  since  each  architect,  or  each  owner,  has  exerted 
his  ingenuity  to  solve  the  problems  of  this  mode  of  con- 
struction. 

On  each  of  the  open  spaces  at  either  end  of  the  bridge, 
an  example  may  be  seen  of  this  peculiar  architecture.  In 
the  middle  of  the  row  of  houses  in  the  square,  to  the  left 
of  the  Maison  Beauvisage,  may  be  seen  the  frail  shop — the 
walls  painted  plum-color,  and  the  woodwork  green — occupied 
by  Jean  Violette,  grandson  of  the  famous  farmer  of  Grouage, 
one  of  the  chief  witnesses  in  the  case  of  the  senator's  dis- 
appearance; to  him,  in  1830,  Beauvisage  had  made  over  his 
connection  and  his  stock-in-trade,  and,  it  was  said,  had  lent 
him  capital. 

The  bridge  of  Arcis  is  of  timber.  At  about  a  hundred 
yards  above  this  bridge  the  current  is  checked  by  another 
bridge  supporting  the  tall  wooden  buildings  of  a  mill  with 
several  wheels.  The  space  between  the  road  bridge  and  this 
private  dam  forms  a  pool,  on  each  side  of  which  stand  some 
good  houses.  Through  a  gap,  and  over  the  roofs,  the  hill 
is  seen  where  stands  the  Chateau  d' Arcis,  with  its  gardens, 
its  paddock,  its  surrounding  walls  and  trees,  commanding 
the  upper  river  of  the  Aube  and  the  poor  meadows  of  the  left 
bank. 

The  noise  of  the  water  tumbling  over  the  dam  behind  the 
foot-bridge  to  the  mills,  and  the  hum  of  the  wheels  as  they 
thrash  the  water  ere  it  falls  into  the  pool  in  cascades,  make 
the  street  above  the  bridge  quite  lively,  in  contrast  with  the 
silence  of  the  stream  where  it  flows  below  between  Monsieur 
Grevin's  garden,  his  house  being  next  to  the  bridge  on  the 
left  bank,  and  the  quay  on  the  right  bank,  where  boats  unload, 
in  front  of  a  row  of  poor  but  picturesque  houses.  The  Aube 
meanders  in  the  distance  between  trees,  singly  or  in  groups, 
tall  or  stumpy,  and  of  various  kinds,  according  to  the  caprice 
pf  the  residents. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  4& 

The  character  of  the  buildings  is  so  various  that  the  tourist 
might  find  a  specimen  representative  of  every  country.  On 
the  north  side  of  the  pool,  where  ducks  sport  and  gobble  in 
the  water,  there  is,  for  instance,  an  almost  southern-looking 
house  with  an  incurved  roof  covered  with  pan-tiles,  such  as 
are  used  in  Italy ;  on  one  side  of  it  is  a  small  garden  plot  on 
the  quay  in  which  vines  grow  over  a  trellis,  and  two  or  three 
trees.  It  recalls  some  corner  of  Eome,  where,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber,  houses  of  this  type  may  be  seen.  Opposite,  on 
the  other  shore,  is  a  large  dwelling  with  a  pent-house  roof 
and  balconies  like  those  of  a  Swiss  chalet;  to  complete  the 
illusion,  between  it  and  the  weir  lies  a  wide  meadow,  planted 
with  poplars  on  each  side  of  a  narrow  graveled  path.  And, 
crowning  the  town,  the  buildings  of  the  chateau,  looking  all 
the  more  imposing  as  it  stands  up  amid  such  frail  structures, 
seem  to  represent  the  grandeur  of  the  old  French  aristocracy. 

Though  the  two  squares  at  the  ends  of  the  bridge  are  in- 
tersected by  the  Sezanne  road,  an  abominable  road  too,  and 
very  ill  kept,  and  though  they  are  the  liveliest  spots  in  the 
town — for  the  offices  of  the  Justice  of  the  Peace  and  of  the 
Mayor  of  Arcis  are  both  in  the  Rue  Vide-Bourse — a  Parisian 
would  think  the  place  strangely  rustic  and  deserted.  The 
landscape  is  altogether  artless ;  standing  on  the  square  by  the 
bridge,  opposite  the  Paste  inn,  a  farmyard  pump  is  to  be 
seen;  to  be  sure,  for  nearly  half  a  century  a  similar  one 
commanded  our  admiration  in  the  grand  courtyard  of  the 
Louvre. 

Nothing  can  more  aptly  illustrate  provincial  life  than  the 
utter  silence  that  reigns  in  this  little  town,  even  in  its  busiest 
quarter.  It  may  easily  be  supposed  how  agitating  is  the 
presence  of  a  stranger,  even  if  he  stays  but  half  a  day,  and 
what  eager  faces  lean  from  every  window  to  watch  him ;  and, 
then,  picture  the  chronic  espionage  exercised  by  the  residents 
over  each  other.  Life  becomes  so  nearly  monastic  that  ex- 
cepting on  Sundays  and  fete-days,  a  visitor  will  not 
meet  a  creature  on  the  Boulevards  or  in  the  Avenue  des 
Soupirs — nowhere,  in  short,  not  even  in  the  streets. 


50  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

It  will  now  be  obvious  why  the  front  of  Monsieur  Beau- 
visage's  house  was  in  a  line  with  the  street  and  the  square: 
the  square  served  as  a  forecourt.  As  he  sat  at  the  window, 
the  retired  hosier  could  get  a  raking  view  of  the  Church 
Square,  of  those  at  the  two  ends  of  the  bridge,  and  of  the 
Sezanne  road.  He  could  see  the  coaches  and  travelers  arrive 
at  the  Hotel  de  la  Poste.  And  on  days  when  the  Court  was 
sitting,  he  could  see  the  stir  in  front  of  the  Justice-house 
and  the  Mairie.  And,  indeed,  Beauvisage  would,  not  have 
exchanged  his  house  for  the  chateau  in  spite  of  its  lordly 
appearance,  its  stone  masonry,  and  its  commanding  posi- 
tion. 

On  entering  the  house,  you  found  yourself  in  a  hall,  and 
facing  a  staircase  beyond.  On  the  right  was  a  large  draw- 
ing-room, with  two  windows  to  the  square,  on  the  left  a 
handsome  dining-room  looking  on  to  the  street.  The  bed- 
rooms were  on  the  first  floor. 

In  spite  of  their  wealth,  the  Beauvisage  household  con- 
sisted of  the  cook  and  a  housemaid,  a  peasant  woman  who 
washed,  ironed,  and  cleaned,  not  often  being  required  to  wait 
on  madame  and  mademoiselle,  who  waited  on  each  other  to 
fill  up  their  time.  Since  the  hosiery  business  had  been  sold, 
the  horse  and  trap,  formerly  used  by  Phileas,  and  kept  at 
the  inn,  had  also  been  disposed  of. 

Just  as  Phileas  went  in,  his  wife,  who  had  been  informed 
of  the  resolution  passed  at  the  meeting,  had  put  on  her  boots 
and  her  shawl  to  call  on  her  father;  for  she  rightly  guessed 
that  in  the  course  of  the  evening  Madame  Marion  would 
throw  out  some  hints  preliminary  to  proposing  Simon  for 
Cecile. 

After  telling  her  about  Charles  Keller's  death,  Phileas 
asked  her  opinion  with  a  simplicity  that  proved  a  habit  of 
respecting  Severine's  views  on  all  subjects. 

"What  do  you  say  to  that,  wife?"  said  he,  and  then  sat 
down  to  await  her  reply. 

In  1839  Madame  Beauvisage,  though  forty-four  years  of 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  51 

age,  still  looked  so  young,  that  she  might  have  been  the 
"double"  of  Mademoiselle  Mars.  If  the  reader  can  remember 
the  most  charming  Celimene  ever  seen  on  the  stage  of  the 
Frangais,  he  may  form  an  exact  idea  of  Severine  Beauvisage. 
There  were  in  both  the  same  roundness  of  form,  the  same 
beautiful  features,  the  same  finished  outline ;  but  the  hosier's 
wife  was  too  short,  and  thus  missed  the  dignified  grace,  the 
coquettish  air  a  la  Sevigne,  which  dwell  in  the  memory  of 
those  who  have  lived  through  the  Empire  and  the  Kestora- 
tion.  And  then  provincial  habits,  and  the  careless  way  of 
dressing  which  Severine  had  allowed  herself  to  drift  into  for 
ten  years  past,  gave  a  common  look  to  that  handsome  profile 
and  fine  features,  and  she  had  grown  stout,  which  disfigured 
what  for  the  first  twelve  years  of  her  married  life  had  been 
really  a  magnificent  person.  Severine's  imperfections  were 
redeemed  by  a  queenly  glance,  full  of  pride  and  command, 
and  by  a  turn  of  the  head  that  asserted  her  dignity.  Her 
hair,  still  black,  long,  and  thick,  crowning  her  head  with  a 
broad  plait,  gave  her  a  youthful  look.  Her  shoulders  and 
bosom  were  as  white  as  snow,  but  all  too  full  and  puffy,  spoil- 
ing the  lines  of  the  throat,  and  making  it  too  short.  Her 
arms,  too  stout  and  dimpled,  ended  in  hands  which,  though 
pretty  and  small,  were  too  plump.  She  was  so  overfull  of 
life  and  health,  that  the  flesh,  in  spite  of  all  her  care,  made 
a  little  roll  above  her  shoe.  A  pair  of  earrings  without 
pendants,  each  worth  a  thousand  crowns,  adorned  her  ears. 

She  had  on  a  lace  cap  with  pink  ribbons,  a  morning  gown 
of  mousseline  de  laine,  striped  in  pink  and  gray,  and  trimmed 
with  green,  opening  over  a  petticoat  with  a  narrow  frill  of 
Valenciennes  edging,  and  a  green  Indian  shawl,  of  which  the 
point  hung  to  the  ground.  Her  feet  did  not  seem  comfortable 
in  their  bronze  kid  boots. 

"You  cannot  be  so  hungry,"  said  she,  looking  at  her  hus- 
band, "but  that  you  can  wait  half  an  hour.  My  father  will 
have  finished  dinner,  but  I  cannot  eat  mine  in  comfort  till 
I  know  what  he  thinks,  and  whether  we  ought  to  go  out  to 
Gondreville " 


52  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Yes,  yes,  go,  my  dear ;  I  can  wait,"  said  the  hosier. 

"Bless  me  !  shall  I  never  cure  you  of  addressing  me  as  tu  f* 
she  exclaimed,  with  a  meaning  shrug. 

"I  have  never  done  so  in  company  by  any  chance — since 
1817,"  replied  Phileas. 

"But  you  constantly  do  so  before  your  daughter  and  the 
servants " 

"As  you  please,  Severine,"  said  Beauvisage  dejectedly. 

"Above  all  things,  do  not  say  a  word  to  Cecile  about  the 
resolution  of  the  electors,"  added  Madame  Beauvisage,  who 
was  looking  at  herself  in  the  glass  while  arranging  her 
shawl. 

"Shall  I  go  with  you  to  see  your  father?"  asked  Phileas. 

"No;  stay  with  Cecile. — Besides,  Jean  Violette  is  to  call 
to-day  to  pay  the  rest  of  the  money  he  owes  you.  He 
will  bring  you  his  twenty  thousand  francs.  This  is 
the  third  time  he  has  asked  for  three  months'  grace;  grant 
him  no  more  time,  and  if  he  cannot  pay  up,  take  his  note  of 
hand  to  Courtet  the  bailiff;  we  must  do  things  regularly, 
and  apply  to  the  Court.  Achille  Pigoult  will  tell  you  how  to 
get  the  money.  That  Violette  is  the  worthy  descendant  of 
his  grandfather !  I  believe  him  quite  capable  of  making 
money  out  of  a  bankruptcy.  He  has  no  sense  of  honor  or 
justice." 

"He  is  a  very  clever  fellow,"  said  Beauvisage. 

"You  handed  over  to  him  a  connection  and  stock-in-trade 
that  were  well  worth  fifty  thousand  francs  for  thirty  thou- 
sand, and  in  eight  years  he  has  only  paid  you  ten  thou- 
sand  " 

"I  never  had  the  law  of  any  man,"  replied  Beauvisage, 
"and  would  rather  lose  my  money  than  torment  the  poor 
fellow " 

"A  poor  fellow  who  is  making  a  fool  of  you." 

Beauvisage  was  silent.  Finding  nothing  to  say  in  reply 
to  this  brutal  remark,  he  stared  at  the  drawing-room  floor. 

*  Tu  (them)  instead  of  vous  (you)  is  used  in  domestic  and  familiar  intercourse.— 
Translator. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  53 

The  gradual  extinction  of  Beauvisage's  intellect  was  per- 
haps due  to  too  much  sleep.  He  was  in  bed  every  night  by 
eight  o'clock,  and  remained  there  till  eight  next  morning, 
and  for  twenty  years  had  slept  for  twelve  hours  on  end  with- 
out ever  waking ;  or,  if  such  a  serious  event  should  supervene, 
it  was  to  him  the  most  extraordinary  fact — he  would  talk 
about  it  all  day.  He  then  spent  about  an  hour  dressing,  for 
his  wife  had  drilled  him  into  never  appearing  in  her  presence 
at  breakfast  till  he  was  shaved,  washed,  and  properly  dressed. 

When  he  was  in  business  he  went  off  after  breakfast  to 
attend  to  it,  and  did  not  come  in  till  dinner-time.  Since 
1832  he  would  call  on  his  father-in-law  instead,  and  take  a 
walk,  or  pay  visits  in  the  town.  He  always  was  seen  in  boots, 
blue  cloth  trousers,  a  white  waistcoat,  and  a  blue  coat,  the 
dress  insisted  on  by  his  wife.  His  linen  was  exquisitely  fine 
and  white,  Severine  requiring  him  to  have  a  clean  shirt,  every 
day.  This  care  of  his  person,  so  unusual  in  the  country,  con- 
tributed to  the  respect  in  which  he  was  held,  as  in  Paris  we 
remark  a  man  of  fashion. 

Thus  the  outer  man  of  this  worthy  and  solemn  night-cap 
seller  denoted  a  person  of  worship;  and  his  wife  was  too 
shrewd  ever  to  have  said  a  word  that  could  let  the  public  of 
Arcis  into  the  secret  of  her  disappointment  and  of  her  hus- 
band's ineptitude;  while  he,  by  dint  of  smiles,  obsequious 
speeches,  and  airs  of  wealth,  passed  muster  as  a  man  of  great 
importance.  It  was  reported  that  Severine  was  so  jealous 
that  she  would  not  allow  him  to  go  out  in  the  evening,  while 
Phileas  was  expressing  roses  and  lilies  for  his  complexion 
under  the  weight  of  blissful  slumbers. 

Beauvisage,  whose  life  was  quite  to  his  mind,  cared  for 
by  his  wife,  well  served  by  the  two  maids,  and  petted  by  his 
daughter,  declared  himself — and  was — the  happiest  man  in 
Arcis.  Severine's  feeling  for  her  commonplace  husband  was 
not  without  the  hue  of  protective  pity  that  a  mother  feels 
for  her  children.  She  disguised  the  stern  remarks  she  felt 
called  upon  to  make  to  him  under  a  jesting  tone.  There  was 
not  a  more  peaceful  household;  and  Phileas'  dislike  to  com- 


54  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

paiiy,  which  sent  him  to  sleep,  as  he  could  not  play  any 
games  of  cards,  had  left  Severine  free  to  dispose  of  her  even- 
ings. 

Cecile's  entrance  put  an  end  to  her  father's  embarrass- 
ment. He  looked  up. 

"How  fine  you  are  !"  he  exclaimed. 

Madame  Beauvisage  turned  round  sharply  with  a  piercing 
look  at  her  daughter,  who  blushed  under  it. 

"Why,  Cecile !  who  told  you  to  dress  up  in  that  style  ?" 
asked  the  mother. 

"Are  we  not  going  to  Madame  Marion's  this  evening?  I 
dressed  to  see  how  my  gown  fits." 

"Cecile,  Cecile !"  said  Severine,  "why  try  to  deceive  your 
mother  ?  It  is  not  right ;  I  am  not  pleased  with  you.  You 
are  trying  to  hide  something " 

"Why,  what  has  she  done?"  asked  Beauvisage,  enchanted 
to  see  his  daughter  so  fresh  and  smart. 

"What  has  she  done?  I  will  tell  her,"  said  the  mother, 
threatening  her  only  child  with  an  ominous  finger. 

Cecile  threw  her  arms  round  her  mother's  neck,  hugged 
and  petted  her,  which,  in  an  only  child,  is  a  sure  way  of 
winning  the  day. 

Cecile  Beauvisage,  a  young  lady  of  nineteen,  had  dressed 
herself  in  a  pale  gray  silk  frock,  trimmed  with  brandenburgs 
of  a  darker  shade  to  look  in  front  like  a  coat.  The  body, 
with  its  buttons  and  jockey  tails,  formed  a  point  in  front,  and 
laced  up  the  back,  like  stays.  This  sort  of  corset  fitted  ex- 
actly to  the  line  of  the  back,  hips  and  bust.  The  skirt,  with 
three  rows  of  narrow  fringe,  hung  in  pretty  folds,  and  the 
cut  and  style  proclaimed  the  hand  of  a  Paris  dressmaker.  A 
light  handkerchief  trimmed  with  lace  was  worn  over  the  body. 
The  heiress  had  knotted  a  pink  kerchief  round  her  throat, 
and  wore  a  straw  hat  with  a  moss  rose  in  it.  She  had  fine 
black  netted  mittens  and  bronze  kid  boots ;  in  short,  but  for 
a  certain  "Sunday-best"  effect,  this  turnout,  as  of  a  figure 
in  a  fashion-plate,  could  not  fail  to  charm  her  father  and 
mother.  And  Cecile  was  a  pretty  girl,  of  medium  height, 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  55 

and  well  proportioned.  Her  chestnut  hair  was  dressed  in 
the  fashion  of  the  day,  in  two  thick  plaits,  forming  loops  on 
each  side  of  her  face,  and  fastened  up  at  the  back  of  her 
head.  Her  face,  bright  with  health,  had  the  aristocratic 
stamp  which  she  had  not  inherited  from  her  father  or  her 
mother.  Thus  her  clear  brown  eyes  had  not  a  trace  of  the  soft, 
calm,  almost  melancholy  look  so  common  in  young  girls. 
Sprightly,  quick,  and  healthy,  Cecile  destroyed  the  romantic 
cast  of  her  features  by  a  sort  of  practical  homeliness  and  the 
freedom  of  manner  often  seen  in  spoilt  children.  At  the 
same  time,  a  husband  who  should  be  capable  of  recommenc- 
ing her  education  and  effacing  the  traces  of  a  provincial  life, 
might  extract  a  charming  woman  from  this  rough-hewn 
marble. 

In  point  of  fact,  Severine's  pride  of  her  daughter  had 
counteracted  the  effects  of  her  love  for  her.  Madame  Beau- 
visage  had  had  firmness  enough  to  bring  her  daughter  up 
well ;  she  had  assumed  a  certain  severity  which  exacted  obedi- 
ence and  eradicated  the  little  evil  that  was  indigenous  in  the 
child's  soul.  The  mother  and  daughter  had  never  been  sepa- 
rated ;  and  Cecile  was  blessed  with  what  is  rarer  among  girls 
than  is  commonly  supposed — perfect  and  unblemished  purity 
of  mind,  innocence  of  heart,  and  genuine  guilelessness. 

"Your  dress  is  highly  suggestive,"  said  Madame  Beau- 
visage.  "Did  Simon  Giguet  say  anything  to  you  yesterday 
which  you  did  not  confide  to  me  ?" 

"Well,  well !"  said  Phileas,  "a  man  who  is  to  be  the  repre- 
sentative to  his  fellow-citizens " 

"My  dear  mamma,"  said  Cecile  in  her  mother's  ear,  "he 
bores  me  to  death — but  there  is  not  another  man  in  Arcis !" 

"Your  opinion  of  him  is  quite  correct.  But  wait  till  we 
know  what  your  grandfather  thinks,"  said  Madame  Beau- 
visage,  embracing  her  daughter,  whose  reply  betrayed  great 
good  sense,  though  it  showed  that  her  innocence  had  been 
tarnished  by  a  thought  of  marriage. 

Monsieur  Grevin's  house,  situated  on  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  river,  ai.  the  corner  of  the  little  Place  beyond  the 


56  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

bridge,  was  one  of  the  oldest  in  the  town.  It  was  built  of 
wood,  the  interstices  between  the  timbers  being  filled  up  with 
pebbles,  and  it  was  covered  with  a  smooth  coating  of  cement 
painted  stone-color.  In  spite  of  this  coquettish  artifice,  it 
looked,  all  the  same,  like  a  house  built  of  cards. 

The  garden,  lying  along  the  river  bank,  had  a  terrace  wall 
with  vases  for  flower-pots. 

This  modest  dwelling,  with  its  stout  wooden  shutters 
painted  stone-color  like  the  walls,  was  furnished  with  a 
simplicity  to  correspond  with  the  exterior.  On  entering  you 
found  yourself  in  a  small  pebbled  courtyard,  divided  from  the 
garden  by  a  green  trellis.  On  the  ground  floor  the  old 
notary's  office  had  been  turned  into  a  drawing-room,  with 
windows  looking  out  on  the  river  and  the  square,  furnished 
with  very  old  and  very  faded  green  Utrecht  velvet.  The  law- 
yer's study  was  now  his  dining-room.  Everything  bore  the 
stamp  of  the  owner,  the  philosophical  old  man  who  led  one 
of  those  lives  that  flow  like  the  waters  of  a  country  stream, 
the  envy  of  political  harlequins  when  at  last  their  eyes  are 
opened  to  the  vanity  of  social  distinctions,  and  when  they 
are  tired  of  a  mad  struggle  with  the  tide  of  human  affairs. 

While  Severine  is  making  her  way  across  the  bridge  to 
see  if  her  father  has  finished  his  dinner,  it  may  be  well  to 
give  a  few  minutes'  study  to  the  person,  the  life,  and  the 
opinions  of  the  old  man  whose  friendship  with  the  Comte 
Malin  de  Gondreville  secured  him  the  respect  of  the  whole 
neighborhood.  This  is  the  plain  unvarnished  tale  of  the 
notary  who  for  a  long  time  had  been,  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, the  only  notary  in  Arcis. 

In  1787  two  youths  set  out  from  Arcis  with  letters  of 
recommendation  to  a  member  of  the  Council  named  Dan- 
ton.  This  famous  revolutionary  was  a  native  of  Arcis.  His 
house  is  still  shown,  and  his  family  still  lives  there.  This 
may  perhaps  account  for  the  influence  of  the  Eevolution  be- 
ing so  strongly  felt  in  that  part  of  the  province. 

Danton  articled  his  young  fellow-countrymen  to  a  lawyer 
of  the  Chatelet,  who  became  famous  for  an  action  against 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  57 

the  Comte  Morton  de  Chabrillant  concerning  his  box  at  the 
theatre  on  the  occasion  of  the  first  performance  of  the 
Mariage  de  Figaro,  when  the  Parlement  took  the  lawyer's 
side  as  considering  itself  insulted  in  the  person  of  its  legal 
representative. 

One  of  the  young  men  was  named  Malin,  and  the  other 
Grevin;  each  was  an  only  son.  Malin's  father  was  at  that 
time  the  owner  of  the  house  in  which  Grevin  was  now  living. 
They  were  mutually  and  faithfully  attached.  Malin,  a 
shrewd  fellow,  with  good  brains  and  high  ajnbitions,  had  the 
gift  of  eloquence.  Grevin,  honest  and  hardworking,  made  it 
his  business  to  admire  Malin. 

They  returned  to  the  country  when  the  Revolution  began; 
Malin  as  a  pleader  at  Troyes,  Grevin  to  be  a  notary  at  Arcis. 
Grevin,  always  Malin's  humble  servant,  got  him  returned  as 
deputy  to  the  Convention ;  Malin  had  Grevin  appointed  pros- 
ecuting magistrate  at  Arcis.  Until  the  9th  Thermidor,  Malin 
remained  unknown ;  he  always  voted  with  the  strong  to  crush 
the  weak;  but  Tallien  showed  him  the  necessity  for  crushing 
Robespierre.  Then  in  that  terrific  parliamentary  battle, 
Malin  distinguished  himself;  he  showed  courage  at  the  right 
moment. 

From  that  day  he  began  to  play  a  part  as  a  politician ;  he 
was  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  rank  and  file ;  he  deserted  from 
the  party  of  the  "Thermidoriens"  to  join  that  of  the  "Cli- 
chyens,"  and  was  one  of  the  Council  of  Elders.  After  ally- 
ing himself  with  Talleyrand  and  Fouehe  to  conspire  against 
Bonaparte,  he — with  them — became  one  of  Bonaparte's  most 
ardent  partisans  after  the  victory  of  Marengo.  Appointed 
tribune,  he  was  one  of  the  first  to  be  elected  to  the  Council 
of  State,  worked  at  the  revision  of  the  Code,  and  was  soon 
promoted  to  senatorial  dignity  with  the  title  of  Comte  de 
Gondreville. 

This  was  the  political  side  of  their  career.  Now  for  the 
financial  side. 

Grevin  was  the  most  active  and  most  crafty  instrument 
of  the  Comte  de  Gondreville's  fortune  in  the  district  of 


58  THE  MEMBER  FOE  ARCIS 

Arcis.  The  estate  of  Gondreville  had  belonged  to  the 
Simeuse  family,  a  good  old  house  of  provincial  nobility, 
decimated  by  the  guillotine,  of  which  the  two  surviving  heirs, 
both  young  soldiers,  were  serving  in  Conde's  army.  The 
estate,  sold  as  nationalized  land,  was  purchased  by  Grevin  for 
Malin,  under  Marion's  name.  Grevin,  in  fact,  acquired  for 
his  friend  the  larger  part  of  the  Church  lands  sold  by  the 
Eepublic  in  the  department  of  the  Aube.  Malin  sent  the 
sums  necessary  for  these  purchases,  not  forgetting  a  bonus  to 
the  agent.  When,  presently,  the  Directory  was  supreme — 
by  which  time  Malin  was  a  power  in  the  Republic — the  sales 
were  taken  up  in  his  name. 

Then  Grevin  was  a  notary,  and  Malin  in  the  Council  of 
State;  Grevin  became  Mayor  of  Arcis,  Malin  was  Senator 
and  Comte  de  Gondreville.  Malin  married  the  daughter  of 
a  millionaire  army-contractor;  Grevin  married  the  only 
daughter  of  Monsieur  Varlet,  the  leading  doctor  in  Arcis. 
The  Comte  de  Gondreville  had  three  hundred  thousand  francs 
a  year,  a  fine  house  in  Paris,  and  the  splendid  chateau  of 
Gondreville.  One  of  his  daughters  married  a  Paris  banker, 
one  of  the  Kellers ;  the  other  became  the  wife  of  Marshal  the 
Due  de  Carigliano. 

Grevin,  a  rich  man  too,  with  fifteen  thousand  francs  a 
year,  owned  the  house  where  he  was  now  peacefully  ending 
his  days  in  strict  economy,  having  managed  his  friend's  busi- 
ness for  him,  and  bought  this  house  from  him  for  six  thou- 
sand francs.  The  Comte  de  Gondreville  was  eighty  years  of 
age,  and  Grevin  seventy-six.  The  peer,  taking  his  walk  in 
his  park,  the  old  notary  in  what  had  been  that  peer's  father's 
garden,  each  in  his  warm  morning  wrapper,  hoarded  crown 
upon  crown.  Not  a  cloud  had  chequered  this  friendship  of 
sixty  years.  The  notary  had  always  been  subservient  to  the 
Member  of  the  Convention,  the  Councillor  of  State,  the  Sena- 
tor, the  Peer  of  France. 

After  the  Eevolution  of  July,  Malin,  being  in  Arcis,  had 
said  to  Grevin: 

"Would  you  care  to  have  the  Cross?"  (of  the  Legion  of 
Honor). 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  59 

"And  what  would  I  do  with  it  ?"  replied  Grevin. 

Neither  had  ever  failed  the  other.  They  had  always  ad- 
vised and  informed  each  other  without  envy  on  one  side  or 
arrogance  or  offensive  airs  on  the  other.  Malin  had  always 
been  obliged  to  do  his  best  for  Grevin,  for  all  Grevin's  pride 
was  in  the  Comte  de  Gondreville.  Grevin  was  as  much  the 
Comte  de  Gondreville  as  Malin  himself.  At  the  same  time, 
since  the  Revolution  of  July,  when  Grevin,  already  an  old 
man,  had  given  up  the  management  of  the  Count's  affairs, 
and  when  the  Count,  failing  from  age  and  from  the  part  he 
had  played  in  so  many  political  storms,  was  settling  down  to 
a  quiet  life,  the  old  men — sure  of  each  other's  regard,  but  no 
longer  needing  each  other's  help — had  met  but  rarely.  On 
his  way  to  his  country  place  or  on  his  return  journey  to 
Paris,  the  Count  would  call  on  Grevin,  who  paid  the  Count  a 
visit  or  two  while  he  was  at  Gondreville. 

Their  children  were  scarcely  acquainted.  Neither  Ma- 
dame Keller,  nor  the  Duchesse  de  Carigliano,  had  ever  formed 
any  intimacy  with  Mademoiselle  Grevin  either  before  or  since 
her  marriage  to  Beauvisage  the  hosier.  This  scorn,  whether 
apparent  or  real,  greatly  puzzled  Severine.  Grevin,  as  Mayor 
of  Arcis  under  the  Empire,  a  man  kind  and  helpful  to  all, 
had,  in  the  exercise  of  his  power,  conciliated  and  overcome 
many  difficulties.  His  good  humor,  bluntness,  and  honesty 
had  won  the  regard  and  affection  of  his  district ;  and  besides, 
everybody  respected  him  as  a  man  who  could  command  the 
favor,  the  power,  and  the  influence  of  the  Comte  de  Gondre- 
ville. 

By  this  time,  however,  when  the  notary's  active  participa- 
tion in  public  business  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  when  for  eight 
years  he  had  been  almost  forgotten  in  the  town  of  Arcis.  and 
his  death  might  be  expected  any  day,  Grevin,  like  his  old 
friend  Malin,  vegetated  rather  than  lived.  He  never  went 
beyond  his  garden ;  he  grew  his  flowers,  pruned  his  trees,  in- 
spected his  vegetables  and  his  grafts — like  all  old  men,  he 
seemed  to  practise  being  a  corpse.  His  life  was  as  regular 
as  clockwork.  Like  his  friend  Colonel  Giguet,  he  was  up 


60  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

with  the  Bun  and  in  bed  before  nine;  he  was  as  frugal  as  a 
miser,  and  drank  very  little  wine — but  it  was  the  best.  He 
allowed  himself  coffee,  but  never  touched  liqueurs,  and  took 
no  exercise  but  that  involved  in  gardening. 

In  all  weathers  he  wore  the  same  clothes:  heavy  shoes, 
oiled  to  keep  out  the  wet,  loose  worsted  stockings,  thick  gray 
flannel  trousers  strapped  round  the  waist,  without  braces;  a 
wide  waistcoat  of  thin  sky-blue  cloth  with  horn  buttons,  and 
a  coat  of  gray  flannel  to  match  the  trousers.  On  his  head 
he  wore  a  little  round  beaver-skin  cap,  which  he  never  took 
off  in  the  house.  In  the  summer  a  black  velvet  cap  took  the 
place  of  the  fur  cap,  and  he  wore  an  iron-gray  cloth  coat  in- 
stead of  the  thick  flannel  one. 

He  was  of  medium  height,  and  stout,  as  a  healthy  old  man 
should  be,  which  made  him  move  a  little  heavily;  his  pace 
was  slow,  as  is  natural  to  men  of  sedentary  habits.  Up  by 
daybreak,  he  made  the  most  careful  and  elaborate  toilet;  he 
shaved  himself,  he  walked  round  his  garden,  he  looked  at  the 
weather  and  consulted  the  barometer,  opening  the  drawing- 
room  shutters  himself.  He  hoed,  he  raked,  he  hunted  out  the 
caterpillars — he  would  always  find  occupation  till  breakfast 
time.  After  breakfast  he  devoted  two  hours  to  digestion, 
thinking — of  heaven  knows  what.  Almost  every  day,  between 
two  and  five,  his  granddaughter  came  to  see  him,  sometimes 
brought  by  the  maid,  and  sometimes  by  her  mother. 

There  were  days  when  this  mechanical  routine  was  upset. 
He  had  to  receive  the  farmers'  rents,  and  payments  in  kind, 
to  be  at  once  resold;  but  this  little  business  was  but  once  a 
month  on  a  market-day.  What  became  of  the  money?  No 
one  knew,  not  even  Severine  or  Cecile;  on  that  point  Grevin 
was  as  mute  as  the  confessional.  Still,  all  the  old  man's  feel- 
ings had  in  the  end  centered  in  his  daughter  and  his  grand- 
child; he  really  loved  them  more  than  his  money. 

This  septuagenarian,  so  neat  in  his  person,  with  his  round 
face,  his  bald  forehead,  his  blue  eyes  and  thin  white  hair, 
had  a  tinge  of  despotism  in  his  temper,  as  men  have  when 
they  have  met  with  no  resistance  from  men  and  things.  His 


61 

only  great  fault,  and  that  deeply  hidden,  for  nothing  had 
ever  called  it  into  play,  was  a  persistent  and  terrible  vindic- 
tiveness,  a  rancor  which  Malin  had  never  roused.  Grevin 
had  always  been  at  Malin's  service,  but  he  had  always  found 
him  grateful;  the  Count  had  never  humiliated  or  offended 
his  friend,  whose  nature  he  knew  thoroughly.  The  two  men 
still  called  each  other  iu,  as  in  their  boyhood,  and  still  affec- 
tionately shook  hands.  The  Senator  had  never  allowed  Grevin 
to  feel  the  difference  in  their  positions ;  he  always  anticipated 
the  wishes  of  his  old  comrade,  and  offered  him  all,  knowing 
that  he  would  be  content  with  little.  Grevin,  who  was  de- 
voted to  classical  literature,  a  purist  in  taste,  and  a  good  law- 
yer, was  deeply  and  widely  learned  in  legal  studies;  he  had 
done  work  for  Malin  which  won  the  editor  of  the  Code  much 
honor  in  the  Council  of  State. 

Severine  was  affectionately  attached  to  her  father ;  she  and 
her  daughter  never  left  the  making  of  his  linen  to  any  one 
else.  They  knitted  his  winter  stockings,  and  watched  his 
health  with  minute  care.  And  Grevin  knew  that  no  thought 
of  self-interest  mingled  with  their  love  for  him;  a  possible 
inheritance  of  a  million  francs  would  not  dry  their  tears,  and 
old  men  are  keenly  alive  to  disinterested  affection.  Before 
leaving  the  good  man's  house,  every  day  Severine  or  Cecile  in- 
quired as  to  what  his  dinner  was  to  be  next  day,  and  sent  him 
early  vegetables  from  market. 

Madame  Beauvisage  had  always  wished  that  her  father 
should  introduce  her  at  the  Chateau  de  Gondreville  to  make 
acquaintance  with  the  Count's  daughters;  but  the  prudent 
old  man  had  frequently  explained  to  her  how  difficult  it  would 
be  to  keep  up  any  connection  with  the  Duchesse  de  Carigliano, 
who  lived  in  Paris,  and  seldom  came  to  Gondreville,  or  with 
a  woman  of  fashion,  like  Madame  Keller,  when  she  herself 
had  a  hosier's  shop  at  Arcis. 

"Your  life  is  settled,"  said  Grevin  to  his  daughter.  "Place 
all  your  hopes  of  enjoyment  in  Cecile,  who,  when  you  give 
up  business,  will  certainly  be  rich  enough  to  give  you  the  free 
and  handsome  style  of  living  that  you  deserve  Choose  a 


82  THE  MEMBER  FOE  ARCI8 

son-in-law  who  has  ambitions  and  brains,  and  then  you  can 
some  day  go  to  Paris  and  leave  that  simpleton  Beauvisage 
here.  If  I  should  live  long  enough  to  have  a  grandson-in- 
law,  I  will  steer  you  over  the  sea  of  politics  as  I  steered  Malin, 
and  you  shall  rise  as  high  as  the  Kellers." 

These  words,  spoken  before  the  Eevolution  of  1830,  and 
one  year  after  the  old  notary  had  established  himself  in  his 
little  house,  account  for  his  calm  existence.  Grevin  wished 
to  live;  he  wished  to  start  his  daughter,  his  granddaughter, 
and  his  great-grandchildren  on  the  highroad  to  greatness. 
Grevin  was  ambitious  for  the  third  generation. 

When  he  made  that  speech  the  old  man  was  thinking  of 
seeing  Cecile  married  to  Charles  Keller,  and  at  this  moment 
he  was  mourning  over  his  disappointed  hopes:  he  did  not 
know  what  determination  to  come  to. 

He  had  no  connections  in  Paris  society ;  and  seeing  nobody 
else  whom  Cecile  could  advantageously  marry  but  the  young 
Marquis  de  Cinq-Cygne,  he  was  wondering  whether  by  sheer 
force  of  gold  he  might  not  smooth  away  the  difficulties  raised 
by  the  Eevolution  of  July  between  the  Royalists  who  were 
faithful  to  their  principles  and  their  conquerors.  In  fact,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  there  would  be  so  little  chance  of  happi- 
ness for  Cecile  if  she  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Marquise  de 
Cinq-Cynge,  that  he  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  it  to  time  to 
settle  matters — that  trusted  friend  of  the  aged.  He  hoped 
that  his  arch-enemy  the  Marquise  might  die,  and  then  he 
thought  he  could  capture  the  son  through  the  grandfather,  old 
Hauteserre,  who  was  living  with  them  at  Cinq-Cygne,  and 
whom  he  knew  to  be  open  to  the  bribery  of  his  avarice.  If 
this  scheme  should  fail,  when  Cecile  Beauvisage  should  be 
two-and-twenty  with  no  hope  of  success,  Grevin  would  consult 
his  friend  Gondreville,  and  leave  him  to  find  her  a  husband 
in  Paris,  in  accordance  with  her  taste  or  ambition,  among  the 
dukes  of  the  Empire. 

Severine  found  her  father  sitting  on  a  wooden  bench  at 
the  end  of  his  terrace,  under  the  blossoming  lilacs,  and  tak- 
ing his  coffee,  for  it  was  half-past  five.  She  saw  at  once  by 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  63 

the  sorrowful  gravity  of  her  father's  expression  that  he  had 
heard  the  news.  In  fact,  the  old  Count  had  sent  a  man- 
servant to  beg  his  friend  to  go  to  him.  Hitherto,  Grevin 
had  been  unwilling  to  encourage  his  daughter's  hopes;  but 
now,  in  the  conflict  of  mingled  considerations  that  struggled 
in  his  sorrowful  mind,  his  secret  slipped  out. 

"My  dear  child,"  said  he,  "I  had  dreamed  of  such  splendid 
and  noble  prospects  for  your  future  life,  and  death  has  upset 
them  all.  Cecile  might  have  been  the  Vicomtesse  Keller; 
for  Charles,  by  my  management,  would  have  been  elected 
member  for  Arcis,  and  he  would  certainly  some  day  have  suc- 
ceeded his  father  as  peer.  Neither  Gondreville  nor  Madame 
Keller,  his  daughter,  would  have  sneezed  at  Cecile's  sixty 
thousand  francs  a  year,  especially  with  the  added  prospect  of  a 
hundred  thousand  more  which  will  come  to  you  some  day. 
You  could  have  lived  in  Paris  with  your  daughter,  and  have 
played  your  part  as  mother-in-law  in  the  higher  spheres  of 
power." 

Madame  Beauvisage  nodded  approval. 

"But  we  are  struck  down  by  the  blow  that  has  killed  this 
charming  young  man,  who  had  already  made  a  friend  of 
the  Prince. — And  this  Simon  Giguet,  who  is  pushing  forward 
on  the  political  stage,  is  a  fool,  a  fool  of  the  worst  kind,  for 
he  believes  himself  an  eagle. — You  are  too  intimate  with  the 
Giguets  and  the  Marion  family  to  refuse  the  alliance  without 
a  great  show  of  reason,  but  you  must  refuse " 

"We  are,  as  usual,  quite  agreed,  my  dear  father." 

"All  this  necessitates  my  going  to  see  my  old  friend  Malin; 
in  the  first  place,  to  comfort  him ;  and  in  the  second  place, 
to  consult  him. — You  and  Cecile  would  be  miserable  with  an 
old  family  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain  ;  they  would  make 
you  feel  your  humble  birth  in  a  thousand  little  way?.  What 
we  must  look  out  for  is  one  of  Napoleon's  dukes  who  is  in 
want  of  money ;  then  we  can  get  a  fine  title  for  Cecile,  and  we 
will  tie  up  her  fortune. 

"You  can  say  thnt  T  have  arranged  for  the  disposal  of 
Cecile's  hand,  and  that  will  put  an  end  to  all  such  impertinent 


04  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

proposals  as  Antonin  Goulard's.  Little  Vinet  is  sure  to  come 
forward;  and  of  all  the  suitors  who  will  nibble  at  her  for- 
tune, he  is  the  preferable.  He  is  clever,  pushing,  and  con- 
nected through  his  mother  with  the  Chargeboeufs.  But  he  is 
too  determined  not  to  be  master,  and  he  is  young  enough  to 
make  her  love  him;  between  the  two  you  would  be  done  for. 
— I  know  what  you  are,  my  child !" 

"I  shall  feel  very  much  embarrassed  this  evening  at  the 
Marions,"  said  Severine. 

"Well,  my  dear,  send  Madame  Marion  to  me.  I  will  talk 
to  her!" 

"I  knew  that  you  were  planning  for  our  future,  dear  father, 
but  I  had  no  idea  that  it  would  be  anything  so  brilliant," 
said  Madame  Beauvisage,  taking  her  father's  hands  and  kiss- 
ing them. 

"I  have  planned  so  deeply,"  replied  Grevin,  "that  in  1831  I 
bought  a  house  you  know  very  well — the  Hotel  Beau- 
seant " 

Madame  Beauvisage  started  with  surprise  at  hearing  this 
well-kept  secret,  but  she  did  not  interrupt  her  father. 

"It  will  be  my  wedding  gift,"  he  added.  "I  let  it  in  1832 
to  some  English,  for  seven  years,  at  twenty-four  thousand 
francs  a  year — a  good  stroke  of  business,  for  it  only  cost 
me  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand,  and  I  have  got 
back  nearly  two  hundred  thousand.  The  lease  is  out  on  the 
15th  of  July  next." 

Severine  kissed  her  father  on  the  forehead  and  on  both 
cheeks.  This  last  discovery  promised  such  splendor  in  the 
future  that  she  was  dazzled. 

"If  my  father  takes  my  advice,"  said  she  to  herself,  as  she 
recrossed  the  bridge,  "he  will  leave  the  property  only  in  re- 
version to  his  grandchildren,  and  I  shall  have  the  life-in- 
terest; I  do  not  wish  that  my  daughter  and  her  husband 
should  turn  me  out  of  their  house;  they  shall  live  in  mine." 

At  dessert,  when  the  maids  were  dining  in  the  kitchen, 
and  Madame  Beauvisage  was  sure  of  not  being  overheard, 
she  thought  it  well  to  give  Cecile  a  little  lecture. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  65 

"My  dear  child,"  said  she,  "behave  this  evening  as  a  well- 
brought-up  girl  should;  and  henceforth  try  to  have  a  quiet 
reserved  manner;  do  not  chatter  too  freely,  nor  walk  about 
alone  with  Monsieur  Giguet,  or  Monsieur  Olivier  Vinet,  or 
the  Sous-prefet,  or  Monsieur  Martener — or  anybody, 
in  short,  not  even  Achille  Pigoult.  You  will  never  marry 
any  young  man  of  Arcis  or  of  the  department.  Your  fate 
will  be  to  shine  in  Paris.  You  shall  have  some  pretty  dresses 
for  every-day  wear,  to  accustom  you  to  being  elegant ;  and  I 
will  try  to  bribe  some  waiting-woman  of  the  Duchesse  de 
Maufrigneuse's  to  find  out  where  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan 
and  the  Marquise  de  Cinq-Cygne  buy  their  things.  Oh,  we 
will  not  look  in  the  least  provincial !  You  must  practise  the 
•piano  three  hours  a  da}r,  and  I  will  have  Moi'se  over  from 
Troyes  every  day  till  I  can  find  out  about  a  master  who  will 
come  from  Paris.  You  must  cultivate  all  your  talents, 
for  you  have  not  more  than  a  year  before  you  at  most  be- 
fore getting  married. — So,  now,  I  have  warned  you,  and  I 
shall  see  how  you  conduct  yourself  this  evening.  You  must 
keep  Simon  at  arm's  length  without  making  him  ridiculous." 

"Be  quite  easy,  ma'am,  I  will  begin  at  once  to  adore  the 
Unknown." 

This  speech,  which  made  Madame  Beauvisage  smile,  needs 
a  word  of  explanation. 

"Ah,  I  have  not  seen  him  yet,"  said  Phileas,  "but  every- 
body is  talking  of  him.  When  I  want  to  know  who  he  is, 
I  will  send  the  sergeant  or  Monsieur  Groslier  to  inspect  his 
passport." 

There  is  not  a  country  town  in  France  where  sooner  or 
later  the  Comedy  of  the  Stranger  is  not  played.  The  Stranger 
is  not  unfrequently  an  adventurer  who  takes  the  natives  in, 
and  goes  off,  carrying  with  him  a  woman's  reputation  or  a 
family  cash-box.  More  often  he  is  really  a  stranger,  whose 
life  is  a  mystery  for  long  enough  to  set  the  town  talking 
of  his  acts  and  deeds. 

Now,  the  possible  accession  of  Simon  Giguet  to  representa- 
tive power  was  not  the  only  great  event  of  the  day.  The  at- 


66  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARC1S 

tention  of  the  citizens  of  Arcis  had  been  much  engaged  by  the 
proceedings  of  an.  individual  who  had  arrived  three  days 
previously,  and  who  was,  as  it  happened,  the  first  Stranger  to 
the  rising  generation.  Hence,  the  Unknown  was  the  chief 
subject  of  conversation  in  every  family  circle.  He  was  the 
log  that  had  dropped  from  the  clouds  into  a  community  of 
frogs. 

The  position  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  sufficiently  accounts  for 
the  effect  that  the  advent  of  a  visitor  was  likely  to  produce. 
Within  six  leagues  from  Troyes,  by  a  farm  called  La  Belle- 
fitoile,  on  the  highway  from  Paris,  a  country  road  turns  off, 
leading  to  the  town  of  Arcis,  across  the  wide  flats  where  the 
Seine  traces  a  narrow  green  valley,  shaded  with  poplars,  in 
sharp  contrast  to  the  white  chalky  marl  of  the  soil.  The  road  • 
from  Arcis  to  Troyes  is  also  about  six  leagues  long,  and  forms 
the  chord  of  an  arc  with  Arcis  and  Troyes  at  either  end,  so 
that  the  shortest  way  from  Paris  is  by  the  cross-road  turning 
off  by  La  Belle-fitoile.  The  river  Aube,  as  has  been  said, 
is  not  navigable  above  Arcis ;  and  so  this  town,  at  six  leagues 
from  the  main  road,  divided  from  Troyes  by  a  monotonous 
level,  lies  lost  in  a  desert,  as  it  were,  with  no  traffic  or  trade 
by  land  or  water.  Sezanne,  at  some  leagues  from  Arcis 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  stands  on  a  highroad  which 
shortens,  by  eight  stages,  the  old  post  road  to  Germany,  via 
Troyes.  Thus,  Arcis  is  isolated;  no  mails  pass  through  the 
town ;  there  is  only  a  service  of  coaches  to  La  Belle-fitoile  on 
one  hand,  and  to  Troyes  on  the  other. 

All  the  residents  know  each  other,  and  they  know  every 
commercial  traveler  who  comes  on  business  from  the  Paris 
houses;  thus,  as  in  every  small  town  in  a  similar  position, 
the  arrival  of  a  stranger  in  Arcis  sets  every  tongue  wagging, 
and  excites  every  imagination,  if  lie  should  stay  more  than  two 
days  without  announcing  his  name  and  his  business. 

Now,  while  Arcis  was  still  stagnantly  peaceful,  three  days 
before  that  on  which — by  the  fiat  of  the  creator  of  so  many 
fictions — this  story  begins,  everybody  had  witnessed  the  ar- 
rival, by  the  road  from  La  Belle-fitoile,  of  a  Stranger,  in 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  67 

a  neat  tilbury,  driving  a  well-bred  horse,  and  followed  by  a 
tiger  no  bigger  than  your  thumb,  mounted  on  a  saddle-horse. 
The  coach  in  connection  with  the  mails  for  Troyes  had 
brought  from  La  Belle-fitoile  three  trunks  from  Paris,  with 
no  name  on  them,  but  belonging  to  the  newcomer,  who  took 
rooms  at  the  Mulet.  Everybody  in  Arcis  that  evening  sup- 
posed that  this  individual  wanted  to  purchase  land  at  Arcis, 
and  he  was  spoken  of  in  many  family  councils  as  the  future 
owner  of  the  chateau. 

The  tilbury,  the  traveler,  the  tiger,  and  the  steeds  all 
seemed  to  have  dropped  from  some  very  superior  social  sphere. 
The  stranger,  who  was  tired  no  doubt,  remained  invisible; 
perhaps  he  spent  part  of  his  time  in  settling  in  the  rooms 
he  selected,  announcing  his  intention  of  remaining  some  little 
time.  He  insisted  on  seeing  where  his  horses  were  housed 
in  the  stable,  and  was  exceedingly  particular;  they  were  to 
be  kept  apart  from  those  belonging  to  the  inn,  and  from  any 
that  might  arrive.  So  much  eccentric  care  led  the  host  of 
the  Mulet  to  the  conclusion  that  the  visitor  must  be  an  Eng- 
lishman. 

On  the  very  first  evening  some  attempts  were  made  on  the 
Mulet  by  curious  inquirers ;  but  no  information  was  to  be  got 
out  of  the  little  groom,  who  refused  to  give  any  account  of 
his  master,  not  by  misleading  answers  or  silence,  but  by  such 
banter  as  seemed  to  indicate  deep  depravity  far  beyond  his 
years. 

After  a  careful  toilet,  the  visitor  ate  his  dinner  at  about 
six  o'clock,  and  then  rode  out,  his  groom  in  attendance,  on 
the  Brienne  road,  and  returned  very  late.  The  innkeeper, 
his  wife,  and  the  chambermaids  vainly  examined  the 
stranger's  luggage  and  possessions;  they  discovered  nothing 
that  could  throw  any  light  on  the  mysterious  visitor's  rank, 
name,  profession,  or  purpose. 

The  effect  was  incalculable:  endless  surmises  were  put  for- 
ward, such  as  might  have  justified  the  intervention  of  the 
public  prosecutor. 

When  he  returned,  the  stranger  admitted  the  mistress  of 


the  house,  who  laid  before  him  the  volume  in  which,  by  the 
regulations  of  the  police,  he  was  required  to  write  his  name 
and  dignity,  the  object  of  his  visit,  and  the  place  whence  he 
came. 

"I  shall  write  nothing  whatever,  madame,"  said  he  to  the 
innkeeper's  wife.  "If  anybody  troubles  you  on  the  subject, 
you  can  say  that  I  refused,  and  send  the  Sous-prefet  to  me 
if  you  like,  for  I  have  no  passport. — People  will  ask  you  a 
great  many  questions  about  me,  madame,"  he  added.  "And 
you  can  answer  what  you  please;  I  do  not  intend  that  you 
should  know  anything  about  me,  even  if  you  should  obtain 
information  in  spite  of  me.  If  you  annoy,  me,  I  shall  go  the 
Hotel  de  la  Paste,  on  the  square  by  the  bridge ;  and,  observe, 
that  I  propose  to  remain  a  fortnight  at  least.  I  should  be 
very  sorry  to  go^  for  I  know  you  to  be  a  sister  of  Gothard, 
one  of  the  heroes  of  the  Simeuse  case." 

"Certainly,  sir!"  replied  the  sister  of  Gothard — the  Cinq- 
Cygnes'  steward. 

After  this,  the  stranger  had  no  difficulty  in  detaining  the 
good  woman  for  nearly  two  hours,  and  extracting  from  her 
all  she  could  tell  him  concerning  Arcis — everybody's  fortune, 
everybody's  business,  and  who  all  the  officials  were. 

Next  morning  he  again  rode  out  attended  by  the  tiger, 
and  did  not  come  in  till  midnight. 

The  reader  can  now  understand  Cecile's  little  jest,  which 
Madame  Beauvisage  thought  had  nothing  in  it. 

Beauvisage  and  Cecile,  equally  surprised  by  the  order  of 
the  day  set  forth  by  Severine,  were  no  less  delighted.  While 
his  wife  was  changing  her  dress  to  go  to  Madame  Marion's, 
the  father  listened  to  the  girl's  hypotheses — guesses  such  as 
a  young  lady  naturally  indulges  in  under  such  circumstances. 
Then,  tired  by  the  day's  work,  as  soon  as  his  wife  and  daughter 
were  gone,  he  went  to  bed. 

As  all  may  suppose  who  know  France,  or  the  province  of 
Champagne — which  is  not  quite  the  same  thing — or  yet  more, 
the  ways  of  country  towns,  there  was  a  perfect  mob  in  Ma- 
dame Marion's  rooms  that  evening.  Simon  Giguefs  success 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  69 

was  regarded  as  a  victory  over  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  and 
the  independence  of  Arcis  in  electioneering  matters  as  es- 
tablished for  ever.  The  news  of  poor  Charles  Keller's  death 
was  felt  to  be  a  special  dispensation  from  Heaven,  and  silenced 
rivalry. 

Antonin  Goulard,  Frederic  Marest,  Olivier  Vinet,  Mon- 
sieur Martener,  in  short,  all  the  authorities  who  had  ever 
frequented  the  house,  whose  opinions  could  hardly  be  adverse 
to  the  Government  as  established  by  popular  suffrage  in  July 
1830,  were  there  as  usual,  but  all  brought  thither  by  curiosity 
as  to  the  attitude  assumed  by  the  Beauvisages,  mother  and 
daughter. 

The  drawing-room,  restored  to  order,  bore  no  traces  of 
the  meeting  which  had  presumably  decided  Maitre  Simon'a 
fate. 

By  eight  o'clock,  four  card-players,  at  each  of  the  four 
tables,  were  busily  occupied.  The  small  drawing-room  and 
the  dining-room  were  full  of  company.  Never,  excepting 
on  great  occasions  when  there  was  dancing,  or  on  some  public 
holiday,  had  Madame  Marion  seen  people  crowded  at  the  door 
of  her  room,  and  streaming  in  like  the  tail  of  a  comet. 

"It  is  the  dawn  of  advancement,"  said  Olivier,  remarking 
to  her  on  a  sight  so  delightful  to  a  woman  who  is  fond  of 
entertaining. 

"It  is  impossible  to  foresee  what  Simon  may  rise  to,"  re- 
plied Madame  Marion.  "We  live  in  an  age  when  a  man  who 
has  perseverance  and  the  art  of  getting  on  may  aspire  to  the 
best." 

This  speech  was  made  less  to  Vinet  than  for  the  benefit 
of  Madame  Beauvisage,  who  had  just  come  in  with  her 
daughter  and  congratulated  her  friend. 

To  avoid  any  direct  questioning,  and  to  forefend  any  mis- 
interpretation of  chance  remarks,  Cecile's  mother  took  a 
seat  at  a  whist-table,  and  threw  all  her  concentrated  energies 
into  the  task  of  winning  a  hundred  points.  A  hundred  points 
means  fifty  sous!  If  a  player  loses  so  large  a  sum,  it  is  a 
two  days'  wonder  at  Arcis. 


70  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Cecile  went  to  gossip  with  Mademoiselle  Mollot,  one  of 
her- bosom  friends,  and  seemed  more  affectionate  to  her  than 
ever.  Mademoiselle  Mollot  was  the  beauty  of  Arcis,  as  Cecile 
was  the  heiress.  M.  Mollot,  clerk  of  assize  at  Arcis,  lived  in 
the  Grande  Place,  in  a  house  situated  very  much  as  that  of 
the  Beauvisages'  was  at  the  bridge  end.  Madame  Mollot,  who 
never  sat  anywhere  but  at  the  drawing-room  window  on  the 
ground  floor,  suffered  in  consequence  from  acute  and  chronic 
curiosity,  a  permanent  and  inveterate  malady.  Madame 
Mollot  devoted  herself  to  watching  her  neighbors,  as  a  nervous 
woman  talks  of  her  ailments,  with  airs,  and  graces,  and 
thorough  enjoyment.  If  a  countryman  came  on  the  Square 
from  the  road  to  Brienne,  she  watched  and  wondered  what 
his  business  could  be  at  Arcis,  and  her  mind  knew  no  rest 
till  she  could  account  for  that  peasant's  proceedings.  She 
spent  her  whole  life  in  criticising  events,  men  and  things, 
and  the  household  affairs  of  Arcis. 

She  was  a  tall,  meagre  woman,  the  daughter  of  a  judge  at 
Troyes,  and  she  had  brought  Monsieur  Mollot,  formerly 
Grevin's  managing  clerk,  fortune  enough  to  enable  him  to  pay 
for  his  place  as  clerk  of  assize.  The  clerk  of  assize  ranks  with  a 
judge,  just  as  in  the  Supreme  Court  the  chief  clerk  ranks 
with  a  councillor.  Monsieur  Mollot  owed  his  nomination  to 
the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  who  had  settled  the  matter  by  a 
word  in  season  at  the  Chancellor's  office  in  favor  of  Grevin's 
clerk.  The  whole  ambition  of  these  three  persons — Mollot, 
his  wife,  and  his  daughter — was  to  see  Ernestine  Mollot,  who 
was  an  only  child,  married  to  Antonin  Goulard.  Thus  the 
rejection  by  the  Beauvisages  of  every  advance  on  the  part 
of  the  Sous-prefet  had  tightened  the  bonds  of  friendship 
between  the  two  families. 

"There  is  a  much-provoked  man !"  said  Ernestine  to  Cecile, 
pointing  to  Simon  Giguet.  "He  is  pining  to  come  and  talk 
to  us ;  but  everybody  who  comes  in  feels  bound  to  congratulate 
and  detain  him.  Fifty  times  at  least  I  have  heard  him  say — 
'The  goodwill  of  my  fellow-citizens  is  towards  my  father, 
I  believe,  rather  than  myself ;  be  that  as  it  may,  rely  upon  it, 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  71 

I  shall  devote  myself  not  merely  to  our  common  interests, 
but  more  especially  to  yours' — I  can  hear  the  words  from  the 
movement  of  his  lips,  and  every  time  he  looks  round  at  you 
with  the  eyes  of  a  martyr." 

"Ernestine,"  said  Cecile,  "stay  by  me  all  the  evening,  for 
I  do  not  want  to  hear  his  hints  hidden  under  speeches  full  of 
Alas!  and  punctuated  with  sighs." 

"Then  you  do  not  want  to  be  the  wife  of  a  Keeper  of  the 
Seals!" 

"Have  they  got  no  higher  than  that?"  said  Cecile,  laugh- 
ing. 

•  "I  assure  you,"  said  Ernestine,  "that  just  now,  before  you 
came  in,  Monsieur  Godivet  the  registrar  declared  in  his  en- 
thusiasm that  Simon  would  be  Keeper  of  the  Seals  before 
three  years  were  out." 

"And  do  they  rely  on  the  patronage  of  the  Comte  de  Gon- 
dreville?"  asked  Goulard,  seating  himself  by  the  two  girls, 
with  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  they  were  laughing  at  his  friend 
Giguet. 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Antonin,"  said  pretty  Ernestine,  "you 
promised  my  mother  to  find  out  who  the  handsome  stranger 
is !  What  is  your  latest  information  ?" 

"The  events  of  to-day,  mademoiselle,  have  been  of  far 
greater  importance,"  said  Antonin,  seating  himself  by  Cecile 
like  a  diplomate  enchanted  to  escape  from  general  observa- 
tion by  taking  refuge  with  a  party  of  girls.  "My  whole 
career  as  Sous-prefet  or  full  Prefet  hangs  in  the  balance." 

"Why !  Will  you  not  allow  your  friend  Simon  to  be  re- 
turned as  unanimously  elected?" 

"Simon  is  my  friend,  but  the  Government  is  my  master, 
and  I  mean  to  do  all  I  can  to  hinder  Simon's  return. — And 
Madame  Mollot  ought  to  lend  me  her  assistance  as  the  wife 
of  a  man  whose  duties  attach  him  to  the  Government." 

"We  are  quite  prepared  to  side  with  you,"  said  Madame 
Mollot.  "My  husband  told  me,"  she  went  on  in  an  undertone, 
"of  all  the  proceedings  here  this  morning.  It  was  lament- 
able,' Onbr  one  man  showed  any  talent — Achille  Pigoult. 


72  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Every  one  agrees  in  saying  that  he  is  an  orator,  and  would 
shine  in  Parliament.  And  though  he  has  nothing,  and  my 
daughter  is  an  only  child  with  a  marriage  portion  of  sixty 
thousand  francs — to  say  nothing  of  what  we  may  leave  her — 
and  money  from  her  father's  uncle  the  miller,  and  from  my 
aunt  Lambert  at  Troyes — well,  I  declare  to  you  that  if  Mon- 
sieur Achille  Pigoult  should  do  us  the  honor  of  proposing 
for  her,  for  my  part,  I  would  say  yes — that  is,  if  my  daughter 
liked  him  well  enough.  But  the  little  simpleton  will  not 
marry  any  one  she  does  not  fancy. — It  is  Mademoiselle  Beau- 
visage  who  has  put  that  into  her  head." 

The  Sous-prefet  took  this  broadside  as  a  man  who  knows 
that  he  has  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year  of  his  own,  and 
expects  to  be  made  Prefet. 

"Mademoiselle  Beauvisage  is  in  the  right,"  said  he,  looking 
at  Cecile ;  "she  is  rich  enough  to  marry  for  love." 

"We  will  not  discuss  marriage,"  said  Ernestine.  "It  only 
distresses  my  poor  little  Cecile,  who  was  confessing  to  me  just 
now  that  if  she  could  only  be  married  for  love,  and  not  for  her 
money,  she  would  like  to  be  courted  by  some  stranger  who. 
knew  nothing  of  Arcis  or  the  fortunes  which  are  to  make  her 
a  female  Crcesus;  and  she  only  wishes  she  could  go  through 
some  romantic  adventure  that  would  end  in  her  being  loved 
and  married  for  her  own  sake " 

"That  is  a  very  pretty  idea.  I  always  knew  that  made- 
moiselle had  as  much  wit  as  money!"  exclaimed  Olivier 
Vinet,  joining  the  group,  in  detestation  of  the  flatterers 
surrounding  Simon  Giguet,  the  idol  of  the  day. 

"And  that  was  how,  from  one  thing  to  another,  we  were 
led  to  talk  of  the  Unknown " 

"And  then,"  added  Ernestine,  "she  thought  of  him  as  the 
possible  hero  of  the  romance  I  have  sketched " 

"Oh !"  cried  Madame  Mollot,  "a  man  of  fifty !    Never !" 

"How  do  you  know  that  he  is  a  man  of  fifty  ?"  asked  Vinet, 
with  a  smile. 

"To  tell  the  truth,"  said  Madame  Mollot,  "I  was  so  mysti- 
fied, that  this  morning  I  took  my  opera-glass " 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  73 

"Well  done!"  exclaimed  the  inspector  of  works,  who  was 
courting  the  mother  to  win  the  daughter. 

"And  so,"  Madame  Mollot  went  on,  "I  could  see  the 
stranger  shaving  himself — with  such  elegant  razors!  Gold 
handles — or  silver-gilt." 

"Gold !  gold !"  cried  Vinet.  "When  there  is  any  doubt, 
let  everything  be  of  the  best! — And  I,  who  have  never  seen 
the  gentleman,  feel  quite  sure  that  he  is  at  least  a  Count." 
This,  which  was  thought  very  funny,  made  everybody  laugh.* 

The  little  group  who  could  be  so  merry  excited  the  envy 
of  the  dowagers  and  attracted  the  attention  of  the  black- 
coated  men  who  stood  round  Simon  Giguet.  As  to  Giguet 
himself,  he  was  in  despair  at  not  being  able  forthwith  to  lay 
his  fortune  and  his  prospects  at  the  heiress'  feet. 

"Oh,  my  dear  father,"  thought  the  deputy  clerk,  finding 
himself  complimented  for  the  involuntary  witticism,  "what  a 
place  you  have  sent  me  to  as  a  beginning  of  my  experience ! — 
A  count — Comte  with  an  m,  ladies,"  he  explained.  "A  man 
as  illustrious  by  birth  as  he  is  distinguished  in  manners ;  note- 
worthy for  his  fortune  and  his  carriages — a  dandy,  a  man  of 
fashion — a  lemon-kid  glove  man " 

"He  has  the  smartest  tilbury  you  ever  saw,  Monsieur 
Olivier,"  said  Ernestine. 

"And  you  never  told  me  of  his  tilbury,  Antonin,  this  morn- 
ing when  we  were  discussing  this  dark  conspirator;  the  til- 
bury is  really  an  attenuating  circumstance.  A  man  with  a 
tilbury  cannot  be  a  Eepublican." 

"Young  ladies,"  said  Antonin  Goulard,  "there  is  nothing 
I  would  not  do  to  promote  your  pleasure. — We  will  know, 
and  that  soon,  if  he  is  a  Comte,  with  an  m,  so  that  you  may  be 
able  to  construct  your  conte  with  an  n" 

"And  it  may  then  become  history,"  said  the  engineer. 

"As  written  for  the  edification  of  Sous-prefets,"  said 
Olivier  Vinet. 

"And  how  will  you  set  about  it  ?"  asked  Madame  Mollot. 

*  There  is  a  pun  in  the  French  on  the  words  Comix,  a  Couut,  and  Conte,  a  romance, 
anb. 


74  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Ah !"  replied  the  Sous-pref et.  "If  you  were  to  ask  Made- 
moiselle Beauvisage  whom  she  would  marry,  if  she  were  con- 
demned to  choose  from  the  men  who  are  here  now,  she  would 
not  tell  you !  You  must  grant  some  reticence  to  power. — Be 
quite  easy,  young  ladies,  in  ten  minutes  you  shall  know 
whether  the  stranger  is  a  count  or  a  bagman." 

Antonin  left  the  little  coterie  of  girls — for  there  were  be- 
sides Cecile  and  Ernestine,  Mademoiselle  Berton,  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  collector  of  revenue,  an  insignificant  damsel  who 
was  a  sort  of  satellite  to  the  heiress  and  the  beauty,  and  Made- 
moiselle Herbelot,  sister  of  the  second  notary  of  Arcis,  an  old 
maid  of  thirty,  sour,  pinched,  and  dressed  after  the  manner 
of  old  maids — she  wore  a  green  tabinet  gown,  and  a  kerchief 
with  embroidered  corners,  crossed  and  knotted  in  front  after 
the  manner  in  fashion  during  the  Eeign  of  Terror. 

"Julien,"  said  the  Sous-prefet  to  his  servant  in  the  vesti- 
bule, "you  were  in  service  for  six  months  with  the  Gondre- 
villes ;  do  you  know  a  count's  coronet  when  you  see  it  ?" 

"It  has  nine  points,  sir,  with  balls." 

"Very  good.  Then  go  over  to  the  Mulet  and  try  to  get  a 
look  at  the  tilbury  belonging  to  the  strange  gentleman  who  is 
staying  there ;  and  come  back  and  tell  me  what  is  painted  on 
it.  Do  the  job  cleverly,  pick  up  anything  you  can  hear. — If 
you  see  the  little  groom,  ask  him  at  what  hour  to-morrow  his 
master  can  receive  the  Sous-prefet — say  Monsieur  le  Comte, 
if  by  chance  you  see  such  a  coronet.  Don't  drink,  say  noth- 
ing, come  back  quickly,  and  when  you  return  let  me  know  by 
just  showing  yourself  at  the  drawing-room  door." 

"Yes,  Monsieur  le  Sous-prefet." 

The  Mulet  inn,  as  has  been  said,  stands  on  the  Place  at  the 
opposite  corner  to  the  garden  wall  of  Madame  Marion's 
house  on  the  other  side  of  the  Brienne  road.  So  the  problem 
would  be  quickly  solved. 

Antonin  Goulard  returned  to  his  seat  by  Mademoiselle 
Beauvisage. 

"We  talked  of  him  so  much  here  last  evening,"  Madame 
Mollot  was  saying,  "that  I  dreamed  of  him  all  night " 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  75 

"Dear,  dear !"  said  Vinet ;  "do  you  still  dream  of  the  Un- 
known, fair  lady  ?" 

"You  are  very  impertinent.  I  could  make  you  dream  of  me 
if  I  chose !"  she  retorted.  "So  this  morning  when  I  got 
up " 

It  may  here  be  noted  that  Madame  Mollet  was  regarded  at 
Arcis  as  having  a  smart  wit — that  is  to  say,  she  talked 
fluently,  and  took  an  unfair  advantage  of  the  gift.  A  Pa- 
risian wandering  in  those  parts,  like  the  Stranger  in  question, 
would  have  probably  thought  her  an  intolerable  chatterbox. 

— "And  was  dressing,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  as  I 
looked  straight  before  me " 

"Out  of  window?"  said  Goulard. 

"Certainly. — My  dressing-room  looks  out  on  the  market- 
place.— You  must  know  that  Poupart  has  given  the  Stranger 
one  of  the  rooms  that  face  mine " 

"One  room,  mamma !"  exclaimed  Ernestine.  "The  Count 
has  three  rooms !  The  groom,  who  is  all  in  black,  is  in  the 
first  room ;  the  second  has  been  turned  into  a  sort  of  drawing- 
room;  and  the  gentleman  sleeps  in  the  third." 

"Then  he  has  half  the  inn,"  remarked  Mademoiselle 
Herbelot. 

"Well,  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  man  himself?"  said 
Madame  Mollot,  vexed  at  being  interrupted  by  girls;  "I  am 
speaking  of  his  person." 

"Do  not  interrupt  the  orator,"  said  Olivier  Vinet. 

"As  I  was  stooping " 

"Sitting,"  said  Antonin  Goulard. 

"Madame  was  as  she  ought  to  be — dressing,  and  looking 
at  the  Mulct,"  said  Vinet. 

These  pleasantries  are  highly  esteemed  in  the  country;  for 
everybody  has  said  everything  there  for  too  long  not  to  be 
content  with  the  same  nonsense  as  amused  our  fathers  before 
the  importation  of  English  prudery,  one  of  the  forms  of 
merchandise  which  custom-houses  cannot  prohibit. 

"Do  not  interrupt  the  orator,"  said  Mademoiselle  Beau- 
visage  to  Vinet,  with  a  responsive  smile. 


76  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

— "My  eyes  involuntarily  fell  on  the  window  of  the  room  in 
which  last  night  the  Stranger  had  gone  to  bed — at  what  hour 
I  cannot  imagine,  for  I  lay  awake  till  after  midnight ! — It  is 
my  misfortune  to  have  a  husband  who  snores  till  the  walls 
and  ceiling  tremble.  If  I  get  to  sleep  first,  I  sleep  so  heavily 
that  I  hear  nothing;  but  if  Mollot  gets  the  start,  my  night's 
rest  is  done  for." 

"There  is  a  third  alternative — you  might  go  off  together," 
said  Achille  Pigoult,  coming  to  join  this  cheerful  party.  "It 
is  your  slumbers  that  are  in  question,  I  perceive " 

"Hold  your  tongue,  and  get  along  with  you,"  said  Madame 
Mollot,  very  graciously. 

"You  see  what  that  means?"  said  Cecile  in  Ernestine's 
ear. 

"Well,  he  had  not  come  in  by  one  o'clock,"  Madame  Mollot 
went  on. 

"He  is  a  fraud !  Sneaking  in  when  you  could  not  see  him," 
said  Achille  Pigoult.  "Oh,  he  is  a  knowing  one,  you  may 
depend!  He  will  get  us  all  into  a  bag  and  sell  us  on  the 
market-place !" 

"To  whom?"  asked  Vinet. 

"To  a  business,  to  an  idea,  to  a  system !"  replied  the 
notary,  and  the  other  lawyer  answered  with  a  cunning  smile. 

"Imagine  my  surprise,"  Madame  Mollot  returned,  "when 
I  caught  sight  of  a  piece  of  stuff,  so  magnificent,  so  elegant, 
so  gaudy ! — Said  I  to  myself,  'He  must  have  a  dressing-gown 
of  that  stuff  woven  with  spun  glass  which  we  saw  at  the 
Industrial  Exhibition.' — And  I  went  for  my  opera-glass  and 
looked, — But,  good  Heavens!  what  did  I  see?  Above  the 
dressing-gown,  where  his  head  should  have  been,  I  saw  a  huge 
mass,  like  a  big  knee. — No,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  curious  I 
was !" 

"I  can  quite  imagine  it,"  said  Antonin. 

"No,  you  cannot  imagine  it,"  said  Madame  Mollot,  "for 
that  knee " 

"Oh,   I   see   it   all,"    said   Olivier   Vinet,    shouting   with 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  77 

laughter.  "The  Stranger  was  dressing  too,  and  you  saw  his 
two  knees " 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Madame  Mollot ;  "you  are  putting  things 
into  my  mouth. — The  Stranger  was  standing  up;  he  held  a 
sponge  over  a  huge  basin,  and  your  rude  joke  be  on  your  own 
head,  Monsieur  Olivier.  I  should  have  known  if  I  had  seen 
what  you  suppose " 

"Oh  !  have  known Madame,  you  are  committing  your- 
self I"  said  Antonin  Goulard. 

"Do  let  me  speak!"  said  Madame  Mollot.  "It  was  his 
head !  He  was  washing  his  head !  he  has  not  a  hair." 

"Rash  man!"  said  Antonin  Goulard.  "He  certainly  can- 
not have  come  to  look  for  a  wife.  To  get  married  here  a  man 
must  have  some  hair.  Hair  is  in  great  request." 

"So  I  have  my  reasons  for  saying  that  he  must  be  fifty. 
A  man  does  not  take  to  a  wig  before  that  age.  For,  in  fact, 
the  Unknown,  when  he  had  finished  his  toilet,  opened  his 
window,  and  I  beheld  him  from  afar,  the  owner  of  a  splendid 
head  of  black  hair.  He  stuck  up  his  eyeglass  when  I  went 
to  the  balcony. — :So,  my  dear  Cecile,  that  gentleman  will 
hardly  be  the  hero  of  your  romance." 

"Why  not  ?  Men  of  fifty  are  not  to  be  disdained  when  they 
are  Counts,"  said  Ernestine. 

"Perhaps  he  had  fair  hair  after  all,"  said  Olivier  Vinet 
mischievously,  "and  then  he  would  be  very  eligible.  The  real 
question  is  whether  it  was  his  bald  head  that  Madame  Mol- 
lot saw,  or " 

"Be  quiet !"  said  Madame  Mollot. 

Antonin  Goulard  went  out  to  send  Madame  Marion's  ser- 
vant across  to  the  Mulet  with  instructions  for  Julien. 

"Bless  me,  what  does  a  husband's  age  matter  ?"  said  Made- 
moiselle Herbelot. 

"So  long  as  you  get  one,"  Vinet  put  in.  He  was  much 
feared  for  his  cold  and  malignant  sarcasm. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  old  maid,  piqued  by  the  remark,  "I 
would  rather  have  a  husband  of  fifty,  kind  and  indulgent  to 
hi&  wife,  than  a  young  man  of  between  twenty  and  thirty  who 


78  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

had  no  heart,  and  whose  wit  stung  everybody — even  his  wife." 

"That,"  said  Olivier  Vinet,  "is  mere  talk,  since  to  prefer  a 
man  of  fifty  to  a  young  man  one  must  have  the  choice !" 

"Oh !"  said  Madame  Mollot,  to  stop  this  squabble  between 
Mademoiselle  Herbelot  and  young  Vinet,  who  always  went 
too  far,  "when  a  woman  has  seen  something  of  life,  she 
knows  that  whether  a  husband  is  fifty  or  five-and-twenty,  it 
comes  to  exactly  the  same  thing  if  he  is  merely  esteemed. — 
The  really  important  thing  in  marriage  is  the  suitability  of 
circumstances  to  be  considered. — If  Mademoiselle  Beauvisage 
wishes  to  live  in  Paris — and  that  would  be  my  notion  in  her 
place — I  would  certainly  not  marry  anybody  in  Arcis.  If  I 
had  had  such  a  fortune  as  she  will  have,  I  might  very  well 
have  given  my  hand  to  a  Count,  a  man  who  could  have  placed 
me  in  a  good  social  position,  and  I  should  not  have  asked  to 
see  his  pedigree." 

"It  would  have  been  enough  for  you  to  have  seen  him  at 
his  toilet,"  said  Vinet  in  a  murmur  to  Madame  Mollot. 

"But  the  King  can  make  a  Count,  madame,"  observed 
Madame  Marion,  who  had  been  standing  for  a  minute  or  two 
looking  at  the  circle  of  young  people. 

"But  some  young  ladies  like  their  Counts  ready-made," 
said  Vinet. 

"Now,  Monsieur  Antonin,"  said  Cecile,  laughing  at 
Olivier  Vinet's  speech,  "the  ten  minutes  are  over,  and  we  do 
not  yet  know  whether  the  Stranger  is  a  Count." 

"The  Government  must  prove  itself  infallible,"  said  Vinet, 
turning  to  Antonin. 

"I  will  keep  my  word,"  replied  the  Sous-prefet,  seeing  his 
servant's  face  in  the  doorway.  And  he  again  left  his  seat. 

"You  are  talking  of  the  Stranger !"  said  Madame  Marion. 
"Does  any  one  know  anything  about  him?" 

"No,  madame,"  said  Achille  Pigoult.  "But  he,  without 
knowing  it,  is  like  an  athlete  in  a  circus — the  object  of  in- 
terest to  two  thousand  pairs  of  eyes. — I  do  know  something," 
added  the  little  notary. 

"Oh,  tell  us,  Monsieur  Achille!"  Ernestine  eagerly  ex- 
claimed. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  7ft 

"His  servant's  name  is  Paradis." 

"Paradis !"  echoed  everybody. 

"Can  any  one  be  called  Paradis  ?"  asked  Madame  Herbelot, 
taking  a  seat  by  her  sister-in-law. 

"It  goes  far  to  prove  that  his  master  is  an  angel,"  the  notary 
went  on,  "for  when  his  servant  follows  him  you  see " 

"  'C'est  le  chemin  du  Paradis/  That  is  really  very  neat," 
said  Madame  Marion,  who  was  anxious  to  secure  Achille 
Pigoult  in  her  nephew's  interest. 

"Monsieur,"  Julien  was  saying  to  his  master  in  the  dining- 
room,  "there  is  a  coat-of-arms  on  the  tilbury." 

"A  coat-of-arms?" 

"And  very  queer  they  are.  There  is  a  coronet  over  them — 
nine  points  with  balls " 

"Then  he  is  a  Count " 

"And  a  winged  monster  running  like  mad,  just  like  a 
postilion  that  has  lost  something. — And  this  is  what  is 
written  on  the  ribbon,"  said  he,  taking  a  scrap  of  paper  out 
of  his  waistcoat  pocket.  "Mademoiselle  Anicette,  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Cadignan's  maid  who  had  just  come — in  a  carriage, 
of  course — to  bring  a  letter  to  the  gentleman  (and  the  car- 
riage from  Cinq-Cygne  is  waiting  at  the  door)  copied  the 
words  down  for  me." 

"Give  it  me." 

The  Sous-prefet  read: 

"Quo  me  trahit  fortuna." 

Though  he  was  not  a  sufficiently  accomplished  herald  to 
know  what  family  bore  this  motto,  Antonin  supposed  that 
the  Cinq-Cygnes  would  hardly  lend  their  chaise  for  the 
Princesse  de  Cadignan  to  send  an  express  messenger  to  any 
one  not  of  the  highest  nobility. 

"Oho !  so  you  know  the  Princess'  maid  ?  You  are  a  lucky 
beggar,"  said  Antonin  to  the  man. 

Julien,  a  native  of  the  place,  after  being  in  service  at  Gon- 
dreville  for  six  months,  had  been  engaged  by  Monsieur  le 
Sous-prefet,  who  wished  to  have  a  stylish  servant. 

"Well,  monsieur,  Anicette  was  my  father's  god-daughter. 


80  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

And  father,  who  felt  kindly  to  the  poor  child,  as  her  father 
was  dead,  sent  her  to  Paris  to  learn  dressmaking ;  my  mother 
could  not  bear  the  sight  of  her." 

"Is  she  pretty?" 

"Not  amiss,  Monsieur  le  Sous-prefet.  More  by  token  she 
had  her  little  troubles  in  Paris.  However,  as  she  is  clever, 
and  can  make  dresses  and  understands  hairdressing,  the 
Princess  took  her  on  the  recommendation  of  Monsieur  Marin, 
head-valet  to  Monsieur  le  Due  de  Maufrigneuse." 

"And  what  did  she  say  about  Cinq-Cygne  ?  Is  there  a  great 
deal  of  company?" 

"Yes,  sir,  a  great  deal.  The  Princess  is  there,  and  Mon- 
sieur d'Arthez,  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse  and  the  Duchess, 
ant?  the  young  Marquis.  In  short,  the  house  is  full.  Mon- 
seigneur  the  Bishop  of  Troyes  is  expected  this  evening." 

"Monseigneur  Troubert.  Oh,  I  should  like  to  know 
whether  he  makes  any  stay  there." 

"Anicette  thought  he  would.  She  fancies  he  has  come  on 
account  of  the  gentleman  who  is  lodging  at  the  Mulet.  And 
more  people  are  expected.  The  coachman  said  there  was  a 
great  talk  about  the  elections.  Monsieur  le  President  Michu 
is  to  spend  a  few  days  there." 

"Just  try  to  get  that  maid  into  the  town  on  some  pretext. 
Have  you  any  fancy  for  her  ?" 

"If  she  had  anything  of  her  own,  there  is  no  knowing. 
She  is  a  smart  girl." 

"Well,  tell  her  to  come  to  see  you  at  the  Sous-prefecture." 

"Very  well,  sir ;  I  will  go  at  once." 

"But  do  not  mention  me,  or  she  will  not  come.  Tell  her 
you  have  heard  of  a  good  place " 

"Oh,  sir !  I  was  in  service  at  Gondreville " 

"And  you  do  not  know  the  history  of  that  message  sent 
from  Cinq-Cygne  at  such  an  hour.  For  it  is  half-past  nine." 

"It  was  something  pressing,  it  would  seem;  for  the  Count, 
who  had  just  come  in  from  Gondreville " 

"The  Stranger  had  been  to  Gondreville !" 

"He  dined  there,  Monsieur  le  Sous-prefet.    And,  you  shall 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  81 

see,  it  is  the  greatest  joke.  The  little  groom  is  as  drunk  as  an 
owl,  saving  your  presence.  They  gave  him  so  much  cham- 
pagne wine  in  the  servants'  hall  that  he  cannot  keep  on  his 
legs.  They  did  it  for  a  joke,  no  doubt." 

"Well— but  the  Count  ?" 

"The  Count  had  gone  to  bed,  but  as  soon  as  he  read  the 
note  he  got  up.  He  is  now  dressing.  They  were  putting  the 
horse  in,  and  he  is  going  out  in  the  tilbury  to  spend  the  rest 
of  the  evening  at  Cinq-Cygne." 

"Then  he  is  a  person  of  importance  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  sir,  no  doubt ;  for  Gothard,  the  steward  at  Cinq- 
Cygne,  came  this  morning  to  see  Poupart,  who  is  his  brother- 
in-law,  and  told  him  to  be  sure  to  hold  his  tongue  about  the 
gentleman  and  his  doings,  and  to  serve  him  as  if  he  were  the 
King." 

"Then  can  Vinet  be  right?"  thought  Goulard  to  himself. 
"Is  there  some  plot  brewing?" 

"It  was  the  Due  Georges  de  Maufrigneuse  who  sent  Mon- 
sieur Gothard  to  the  Mulet;  and  when  Poupart  came  here  to 
the  meeting  this  morning,  it  was  because  this  Count  made 
him  come.  If  he  were  to  tell  Monsieur  Poupart  to  set  out 
for  Paris  to-night,  he  would  go.  Gothard  told  his  brother-in- 
law  to  throw  everything  over  for  the  gentleman  and  hood- 
wink all  inquirers." 

"If  you  can  get  hold  of  Anicette,  be  sure  to  let  me  know," 
said  Antonin. 

"Well,  I  could  go  to  see  her  at  Cinq-Cygne,  sir,  if  you  were 
to  send  me  out  to  your  house  at  le  Val-Preux." 

"That  is  a  good  idea.  You  might  get  a  lift  on  the  chaise. 
But  what  about  the  little  groom?" 

"He  is  a  smart  little  chap,  Monsieur 'le  Sous-prefet!  Just 
fancy,  sir,  screwed  as  he  is,  he  has  just  ridden  off  on  his  mas- 
ter's fine  English  horse,  a  thoroughbred  that  can  cover  seven 
leagues  an  hour,  to  carry  a  letter  to  Troyes,  that  it  may  reach 
Paris  to-morrow !  And  the  brat  is  no  more  than  nine  and  a 
half  years  old !  What  will  he  be  by  the  time  he  is  twenty  ?" 

The  Sous-prefet  listened  mechanically  to  this  last  piece  of 


82  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

domestic  gossip.  Julien  chattered  on  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
Goulard  heard  him  vaguely,  thinking  all  the  time  of  the 
great  Unknown. 

"Wait  a  little,"  he  said  to  the  servant. 

"What  a  puzzle !"  thought  he,  as  he  slowly  returned  to  the 
drawing-room.  "A  man  who  dines  with  the  Comte  de  Gon- 
dreville,  and  who  spends  the  night  at  Cinq-Cygne !  Mysteries 
with  a  vengeance!" 

"Well !"  cried  Mademoiselle  Beauvisage's  little  circle  as  he 
joined  them. 

"Well,  he  is  a  count,  and  of  the  right  sort,  I  will  answer 
for  itr 

"Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  see  him !"  exclaimed  Cecile. 

"Mademoiselle,"  said  Antonin,  with  a  mischievous  smile  at 
Madame  Mollot,  "he  is  tall  and  well  made,  and  does  not 
wear  a  wig !  His  little  tiger  was  as  tipsy  as  a  lord ;  they  had 
filled  him  up  with  wine  in  the  servants'  hall  at  Gondreville; 
and  the  child,  who  is  but  nine,  replied  to  Julien  with  all  the 
dignity  of  an  old  valet  when  my  man  said  something  about 
his  master's  wig.  *A  wig !  My  master !  I  would  not  stay 
with  him.  He  dyes  his  hair,  and  that  is  bad  enough.'  " 

"Your  opera-glasses  magnify  a  good  deal,"  said  Achille 
Pigoult  to  Madame  Mollot,  who  laughed. 

"Well,  and  this  boy  of  our  handsome  Count's,  tipsy  as  he 
is,  has  flown  off  to  Troyes  to  carry  a  letter,  and  will  be  there 
in  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  in  spite  of  the  darkness." 

"I  should  like  to  see  the  tiger !"  said  Vinet. 

"If  he  dined  at  Gondreville,  we  shall  soon  know  all  about 
this  Count,"  said  Cecile,  "for  grandpapa  is  going  there  to-mor- 
row morning." 

"What  will  seem  even  more  strange,"  said  Antonin  Goulard, 
"is  that  a  special  messenger,  in  the  person  of  Mademoiselle 
Anicette,  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan's  maid,  has  come  from 
Cinq-Cygne  to  the  stranger,  and  he  is  going  to  spend  the 
night  there." 

"Bless  me !"  said  Olivier  Vinet ;  "but  he  is  not  a  man — he 
is  a  demon,  a  phoenix !  He  is  the  friend  of  both  parties !  He 
can  ingurgitate " 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  88 

"For  shame,  monsieur !"  said  Madame  Mollot,  "you  use 
W0rds " 

"Ingurgitate  is  good  Latin,  madame,"  replied  Vinet  very 
gravely.  "He  ingurgitates,  I  say,  with  King  Louis-Philippe 
in  the  morning,  and  banquets  at  Holyrood  in  "the  evening 
with  Charles  X.  There  is  but  one  reason  that  can  allow  a 
respectable  Christian  to  frequent  both  camps  and  go  alike  to 
the  Capulets'  and  the  Montagues'.  Ah !  I  know  what  the  man 
is !  He  is  the  manager  of  the  railway  line  between  Paris  and 
Lyons,  or  Paris  and  Dijon,  or  Montereau  and  Troyes " 

"Of  course !"  cried  Antonin.  "You  have  hit  it.  Only 
finance,  interest,  or  speculation  are  equally  welcome  wherever 
they  go." 

"Yes,  and  just  now  the  greatest  names,  the  greatest  fam- 
ilies, the  old  and  the  new  nobility  are  rushing  full  tilt  into 
joint-stock  concerns,"  said  Achille  Pigoult. 

"Francs  to  the  Frank !"  said  Olivier,  without  a  smile. 

"You  can  hardly  be  said  to  be  the  olive  branch  of  peace,'* 
said  Madame  Mollot. 

"But  is  it  not  disgusting  to  see  such  names  as  Verneuil, 
Maufrigneuse,  and  d'Herouville  cheek  by  jowl  with  Tillet 
and  Nucingen  in  the  quotations  on  'Change?" 

"Our  stranger  is,  you  may  depend,  an  infant  railway  line," 
said  Vinet. 

"Well,  all  Arcis  will  be  topsy-turvy  by  to-morrow,"  said 
Achille  Pigoult.  "I  will  call  on  the  gentleman  to  get  the 
notary's  work  in  the  concern.  There  will  be  two  thousand 
deeds  to  draw  up !" 

"And  so  our  romance  is  a  locomotive  !"  said  Ernestine  sadly 
to  Cecile. 

"Nay,  a  count  and  a  railway  company  in  one  is  doubly 
conjugal,"  said  Achille.  "But — is  he  a  bachelor?" 

"I  will  find  out  to-morrow  from  grandpapa !"  cried  Cecile 
with  affected  enthusiasm. 

"A  pretty  joke !"  exclaimed  Madame  Marion  with  a  forced 
laugh.  "Why,  Cecile,  child,  is  your  brain  running  on  the 
Unknown  ?" 


84  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"A  husband  is  always  the  Unknown,"  remarked  Olivier 
Vinet  hastily,  with  a  glance  at  Mademoiselle  Beauvisage, 
which  she  perfectly  understood. 

"And  why  not?"  said  she.  "There  is  nothing  compromis- 
ing in  that.  Besides,  if  these  gentlemen  are  right,  he  is  either 
a  great  lord  or  a  great  speculator.  My  word !  I  can  do  with 
either.  I  like  Paris !  I  want  a  carriage,  and  a  fine  house,  and 
a  box  at  the  Opera,  et  cetera." 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Vinet.  "Why  refuse  yourself  anything 
in  a  day-dream  ?  Now,  if  I  had  the  honor  to  be  your  brother, 
you  should  marry  the  young  Marquis  de  Cinq-Cygne,  who  is, 
it  strikes  me,  the  young  fellow  to  make  the  money  fly,  and  to 
laugh  at  his  mother's  objections  to  the  actors  in  the  judicial 
drama  in  which  our  presiding  judge's  father  came  to  such 
a  sad  end." 

"You  would  find  it  easier  to  become  Prime  Minister !"  said 
Madame  Marion.  "There  can  never  be  an  alliance  between 
Grevin's  granddaughter  and  the  Cinq-Cygnes." 

"Borneo  was  within  an  ace  of  marrying  Juliet,"  said  Achille 
Pigoult ;  "and  Mademoiselle  Cecile  is  handsomer " 

"Oh,  if  you  quote  opera !"  said  Herbelot  feebly,  as  he  rose 
from  the  whist-table. 

"My  colleague,"  said  Achille  Pigoult,  "is  evidently  not 
strong  in  mediaeval  history." 

"Come  along,  Malvina,"  said  the  sturdy  notary,  without 
answering  his  young  brother  of  the  law. 

"Tell  me,  Monsieur  Antonin,"  said  Cecile,  "you  spoke  of 
Anicette,  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan's  maid — do  you  know 
her?" 

"No;  but  Julien  does.  She  is  his  father's  godchild,  and 
they  are  old  friends." 

"Oh,  do  try,  through  Julien,  to  get  her  for  us;  mamma 
will  give  any  wages " 

"Mademoiselle,  to  hear  is  to  obey,  as  they  say  to  the  despots 
in  Asia,"  replied  the  Sous-prefet.  "To  serve  you,  see  how 
prompt  I  will  be." 

He  went  off  to  desire  Julien  to  get  a  lift  in  the  chaise 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  85 

returning  to  Cinq-Cygne,  and  to  win  over  Anicette  at  any 
cost.  , 

At  this  moment  Simon  Giguet,  who  had  been  put  through 
his  paces  by  all  the  influential  men  of  Arcis,  and  who  be- 
lieved himself  secure  of  his  election,  joined  the  circle  round 
Cecile  and  Mademoiselle  Mollot. 

It  was  getting  late ;  ten  had  struck. 

Having  consumed  an  enormous  quantity  of  cakes,  of  orgeat, 
punch,  lemonade,  and  various  fruit  syrups,  all  who  had  come 
that  evening  to  Madame  Marion's  on  purely  political  grounds, 
and  who  were  unaccustomed  to  tread  these  boards — to  them 
quite  aristocratic — disappeared  promptly,  all  the  more  so 
because  they  never  sat  up  so  late.  The  party  would  now  be 
more  intimate  in  its  tone ;  Simon  Giguet  hoped  to  be  able  to 
exchange  a  few  words  with  Cecile,  and  looked  at  her  with  a 
conquering  air.  This  greatly  offended  Cecile. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Antonin  to  Simon,  as  he  saw  the 
aureole  of  triumph  on  his  friend's  brow,  "you  have  joined  us 
at  a  moment  when  all  the  men  of  Arcis  are  in  the  wrong 
box " 

"Quite  wrong,"  said  Ernestine,  nudged  by  Cecile.  "We 
are  quite  crazy  about  the  Unknown.  Cecile  and  I  are  quar- 
reling for  him." 

"To  begin  with,  he  is  no  longer  unknown,"  said  Cecile. 
"He  is  a  Count." 

"Some  adventurer !"  said  Simon  Giguet  scornfully. 

"Would  you  say  that  to  his  face,"  retorted  Cecile,  much 
nettled.  "A  man  who  has  just  had  a  message  by  one  of  the 
Princesse  de  Cadignan's  servants,  who  dined  to-day  at  Gon- 
dreville,  and  is  gone  to  spend  this  very  evening  with  the  Mar- 
quise de  Cinq-Cygne?" 

She  spoke  so  eagerly  and  sharply  that  Simon  was  put  out  of 
countenance. 

"Indeed,  mademoiselle,"  said  Olivier  Vinet,  "if  we  all  said 
to  people's  faces  what  we  say  behind  each  other's  backs, 
society  would  be  impossible.  The  pleasure  of  society,  espe- 
cially in  the  country,  consists  in  speaking  ill  of  others." 


80  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Monsieur  Simon  is  jealous  of  your  enthusiasm  about  the 
strange  Count,"  remarked  Ernestine. 

"It  seems  to  me/'  said  Cecile,  "that  Monsieur  Simon  has 
no  right  to  be  jealous  of  any  fancy  of  mine !" 

And  saying  this  in  a  tone  to  annihilate  Simon,  Cecile  rose. 
Everybody  made  way  for  her,  and  she  joined  her  mother, 
who  was  settling  her  gambling  account. 

"My  dear  girl,"  said  Madame  Marion,  close  at  her  heels, 
"it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  very  hard  on  my  poor  Simon." 

"Why,  what  has  the  dear  little  puss  been  doing  ?"  asked  her 
mother. 

"Mamma,  Monsieur  Simon  gave  my  Unknown  a  slap  in  the 
face  by  calling  him  an  adventurer." 

Simon  had  followed  his  aunt,  and  was  now  on  the  battle- 
field by  the  whist-table.  Thus  the  four  persons,  whose  inter- 
ests were  so  serious,  were  collected  in  the  middle  of  the  room ; 
Cecile  and  her  mother  on  one  side  of  the  table,  Madame 
Marion  and  her  nephew  on  the  other. 

"Eeally,  madame,"  said  Simon  Giguet,  "you  must  confess 
that  a  young  lady  must  be  very  anxious  to  find  me  in  the 
wrong,  to  be  vexed  by  my  saying  that  a  man  of  whom  all 
Arcis  is  talking,  and  who  is  living  at  the  Mulet— 

"Do  you  suppose  he  is  competing  with  you  ?"  said  Madame 
Beauvisage  jestingly. 

"I  should  certainly  feel  it  a  deep  grievance  if  he  should 
be  the  cause  of  any  misunderstanding  between  Mademoiselle 
Cecile  and  me/'  said  the  candidate,  with  a  beseeching  look  at 
the  girl. 

"But  you  pronounced  sentence,  monsieur,  in  a  cutting  tone, 
which  proved  you  to  be  despotic — and  you  are  right;  if  you 
hope  ever  to  be  Minister,  you  must  cut  a  good  deal !" 

Madame  Beauvisage  took  Madame  Marion  by  the  arm  and 
led  her  to  a  sofa.  Cecile,  left  alone,  went  to  join  the  circle, 
that  she  might  not  hear  any  reply  that  Simon  might  make; 
and  he  remained  by  the  table,  looking  foolish  enough,  mechan- 
ically playing  tricks  with  the  bone  fish. 

"There  are  as  good  fish  in  the  sea!"  said  Olivier  Vinet, 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  87 

who  had  observed  the  little  scene ;  and  Cecile,  overhearing  the 
remark,  though  it  was  spoken  in  a  low  tone,  could  not  help 
laughing. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  Madame  Marion  to  Madame  Beau- 
visage,  "nothing  now,  you  see,  can  hinder  my  nephew's  elec- 
tion." 

"I  congratulate  you — and  the  Chamber,"  said  Severine. 

"And  my  nephew  will  make  his  mark,  my  dear. — I  will  tell 
you  why :  his  own  fortune,  and  what  his  father  will  leave  him 
with  mine,  will  bring  him  in  about  thirty  thousand  francs  a 
year.  When  a  man  is  a  member  of  parliament  and  has  such 
a  fortune,  there  is  nothing  he  may  not  aspire  to." 

"Madame,  he  will  command  our  admiration,  and  our  best 
wishes  will  be  with  him  throughout  his  political  career, 
but— 

"I  ask  for  no  reply,"  exclaimed  Madame  Marion,  eagerly 
interrupting  her  friend  "I  only  ask  you  to  think  it  over. 
Do  our  young  people  like  each  other?  Can  we  arrange  the 
match?  We  shall  live  in  Paris  whenever  the  Chambers  are 
sitting,  and  who  knows  but  the  Member  for  Arcis  may  be 
settled  there  by  getting  some  good  place  in  office? — See  how 
Monsieur  Vinet  of  Provins  has  got  on !  Mademoiselle  de 
Chargebceuf  was  thought  very  foolish  to  marry  him;  and  be- 
fore long  she  will  be  the  wife  of  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  and 
Monsieur  Vinet  may  have  a  peerage  if  he  likes." 

"Madame,  it  does  not  rest  with  me  to  settle  my  daughter's 
marriage.  In  the  first  place,  her  father  and  I  leave  her  abso- 
lutely free  to  choose  for  herself.  If  she  wanted  to  marry  the 
Unknown;  if  he  were  a  suitable  match,  we  should  give  our 
consent.  Then  Cecile  depends  entirely  on  her  grandfather, 
who,  as  a  wedding  gift,  will  settle  on  her  a  house  in  Paris, 
the  Hotel  Beauseant,  which  he  bought  for  us  ten  years  ago, 
and  which  at  the  present  day  is  worth  eight  hundred  thousand 
francs.  It  is  one  of  the  finest  mansions  in  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Germain.  He  has  also  a  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand 
francs  put  by  for  furnishing  it.  Now  a  grandfather  who  be- 
haves in  that  way,  and  who  will  persuade  my  mother-in-law 


88  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

on  her  part  to  do  something  for  her  grandchild,  has  some 
right  to  an  opinion  on  the  question  of  a  suitable  match — 

"Certainly !"  said  Madame  Marion,  amazed  at  this  revela- 
tion, which  would  add  to  the  difficulties  of  her  nephew's 
marriage  with  Cecile. 

"And  even  if  Cecile  had  no  expectations  from  her  grand- 
father," Madame  Beauvisage  went  on,  "she  would  not  marry 
without  consulting  him.  The  young  man  my  father  had 
chosen  is  just  dead;  I  do  not  know  what  his  present  inten- 
tions may  be.  If  you  have  any  proposals  to  make,  go  and  see 
my  father." 

"Very  well,  I  will,"  said  Madame  Marion. 

Madame  Beauvisage  signaled  to  Cecile,  and  they  left. 

On  the  following  afternoon  Antonin  and  Frederic  Marest 
were  walking,  as  was  their  after-dinner  custom,  with  Mon- 
sieur Martener  and  Olivier  under  the  limes  of  the  Avenue 
des  Soupirs,  smoking  their  cigars.  These  walks  are  one  of 
the  little  pleasures  of  provincial  bigwigs,  when  they  live  on 
good  terms  with  each  other. 

They  had  taken  but  a  few  turns  when  they  were  joined  by 
Simon  Giguet,  who  said  to  the  Sous-prefet  with  an  air  of 
mystery : 

"You  will  surely  stick  by  an  old  comrade,  who  will  make 
it  his  business  to  get  you  the  Legion  of  Honor  and  a  prefec- 
ture I" 

"Are  you  beginning  your  political  career  already?"  said 
Antonin,  laughing.  "So  you  are  trying  to  bribe  me — you  who 
are  such  a  puritan?" 

"Will  you  support  me?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  you  know  that  Bar-sur-Aube  registers  its 
votes  here.  Who  can  guarantee  a  majority  under  such  cir- 
cumstances? My  colleague  at  Bar-sur-Aube  would  show  me 
up  if  I  did  not  do  as  much  as  he  to  support  the  Government ; 
and  your  promises  are  conditional,  while  my  overthrow  would 
be  a  certainty." 

"But  I  have  no  opponent." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  89 

"So  you  think,"  said  Antonin.  "But  one  will  turn  up, 
there  is  no  doubt  of  that." 

"And  my  aunt,  who  knows  that  I  am  on  tenter-hooks,  has 
not  come  back !"  cried  Giguet.  "These  three  hours  may  count 
for  three  years !" 

And  the  great  secret  came  out.  He  confided  to  his  friend 
that  Madame  Marion  was  gone  to  propose  on  his  behalf  to  old 
Grevin  for  Cecile. 

The  friends  had  walked  on  as  far  as  the  Brienne  road,  just 
opposite  the  Mulct.  While  Simon  stared  down  the  hill,  up 
which  his  aunt  would  return  from  the  bridge,  the  Sous-prefet 
was  studying  the  runlets  worn  in  the  ground  by  the  rain. 
Arcis  is  not  paved  with  either  flagstones  or  cobbles,  for  the 
plains  of  Champagne  afford  no  building  materials,  much  less 
any  pebbles  large  enough  to  make  a  road.  There  are  paved 
side-paths  in  one  or  two  streets,  but  the  rest  are  badly  ma- 
cadamized, and  that  is  enough  to  explain  the  state  they  are  in 
when  it  rains.  The  Sous-prefet  kept  himself  in  countenance 
by  seeming  to  meditate  on  this  important  matter,  but  he  did 
not  lose  one  of  the  secret  pangs  that  found  expression  in  his 
companion's  anxious  face. 

At  this  particular  moment  the  Stranger  was  returning 
from  the  chateau  of  Cinq-Cygne,  where  he  had  evidently 
spent  the  night.  Goulard  was  determined  to  clear  up  for  him- 
self the  mystery  in  which  the  Stranger  chose  to  wrap  himself 
— being  also  wrapped,  so  far  as  his  outer  man  was  con- 
cerned, in  a  light  overcoat  or  paletot  of  coarse  frieze,  such  as 
was  then  the  fashion.  A  cloak  thrown  over  him  hid  his 
figure  from  view,  and  an  enormous  comforter  of  red  cash- 
mere covered  his  face  up  to  the  eyes.  His  hat,  knowingly  set 
on  one  side,  was,  nevertheless,  not  extravagant.  Never  was 
a  mystery  so  mysteriously  smothered  and  concealed. 

"Clear  the  way!"  cried  the  tiger,  riding  in  front  of  the 
tilbury.  "Open  the  gate,  Daddy  Poupart !"  he  piped  in  his 
shrill  little  voice. 

The  three  stablemen  ran  out,  and  the  tilbury  went  in  with- 
out any  one  having  seen  the  driver's  face. 


90  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

The  Sous-prefet  followed  it,  however,  to  the  door  of  the 
inn. 

"Madame  Poupart,"  said  Antonin,  "will  you  tell  Monsieur 
— Monsieur ?" 

"I  do  not  know  his  name,"  said  Gothard's  sister. 

"Then  you  are  to  blame.  The  police  regulations  are  defi- 
nite, and  Monsieur  Groslier  does  not  see  a  joke — like  all  police 
authorities  when  they  have  nothing  to  do." 

"Innkeepers  are  never  in  the  wrong  at  election  time,"  said 
the  tiger,  getting  off  his  horse. 

"I  will  tell  that  to  Vinet,"  thought  the  official.  "Go  and 
ask  your  master  to  see  me,  the  Sous-prefet  of  Arcis." 

Antonin  went  back  to  his  three  friends,  who  had  stopped 
outside  on  seeing  the  Sous-prefet  in  conversation  with  the 
tiger,  already  famous  in  Arcis  for  his  name  and  his  ready  wit. 

"Monsieur  begs  that  Monsieur  le  Sous-prefet  will  walk  up. 
He  will  be  delighted  to  see  him,"  Paradis  came  out  in  a  few 
minutes  to  say  to  Antonin. 

"I  say,  little  man,"  said  Olivier,  "how  much  a  year  does 
your  master  give  a  youth  of  your  spirit  and  inches  ?" 

"Give,  monsieur  ? — What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  Monsieur  le 
Comte  allows  himself  to  be  done — and  I  am  satisfied." 

"That  boy  is  at  a  good  school,"  said  Frederic  Marest. 

"The  High  School,  Monsieur  le  Procureur  du  Eoi,"  replied 
Paradis,  and  the  five  men  stared  at  his  cool  impudence. 

"What  a  Figaro !"  exclaimed  Vinet. 

"It  does  not  do  to  sing  small,"  said  the  boy.  "My 
master  calls  me  a  little  Eobert  Macaire.  Since  we  have 
found  out  how  to  invest  in  the  funds,  we  are  Figaro — 
with  the  savings  bank  into  the  bargain." 

"Why,  what  do  you  earn?" 

"There  are  times  when  I  make  a  thousand  crowns  on  a 
race — and  without  selling  my  master,  monsieur." 

"Sublime  infant!     He  knows  the  turf " 

"And  all  the  gentleman  riders!"  said  the  boy,  putting 
out  his  tongue  at  Vinet. 

"Paradise  road  goes  a  long  way !"  said  Frederic  Marest. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  91 

Antonin  Goulard,  meanwhile,  shown  up  by  the  innkeeper, 
found  the  Unknown  in  the  room  he  used  for  a  drawing- 
room,  and  himself  under  inspection  through  a  most  imper- 
tinent eyeglass. 

"Monsieur,"  said  Antonin  Goulard  in  a  rather  lofty  tone, 
"I  have  just  heard  from  the  innkeeper's  wife  that  you  re- 
fuse to  conform  to  the  police  regulations;  and  as  I  have  no 
doubt  that  you  are  a  man  of  some  consequence,  I  have  come 
myself " 

'Tour  name  is  Goulard?"  said  the  Stranger  in  a  head- 
voice. 

"I  am  Sous-prefet,  monsieur,"  said  Antonin  Goulard. 

"Your  father,  I  think,  was  attached  to  the  Simeuses?" 

"And  I  am  attached  to  the  Government.  Times  have 
changed." 

"You  have  a  servant  named  Julien  who  wants  to  bribe 
away  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan's  waiting-maid?" 

"Monsieur,  I  allow  no  one  to  speak  to  me  in  such  a  way; 
you  misunderstand  my  character " 

"But  you  wish  to  understand  mine,"  interrupted  the 
other.  "You  may  write  it  in  the  inn-register:  'An  imper- 
tinent person,  from  Paris,  age  doubtful,  traveling  for  his 
pleasure.' — It  would  be  an  innovation  highly  appreciated 
in  France  to  imitate  the  English  method  of  allowing  people 
to  come  and  go  as  they  please  without  annoying  them  and 
asking  them  for  their  papers  at  every  turn. — I  have  no 
passport :  what  will  you  do  to  me  ?" 

"The  public  prosecutor  is  out  there  under  the  limes " 

said  the  Sous-prefet. 

"Monsieur  Marest? — Wish  him  from  me  a  very  good 
morning." 

"But  who  are  you?" 

"Whatever  you  wish  me  to  be,  my  dear  Monsieur  Gou- 
lard," said  the  Stranger,  "since  it  is  you  who  must  decide 
how  I  should  appear  before  the  good  folks  of  this  district. 
Give  me  some  advice  as  to  my  demeanor.  Here — read  this.'; 


92  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

And  the  visitor  held  out  a  note  as  follows : — 

• 
(Private.}  PREFECTURE  OF  THE  AUBE. 

"MONSIEUR  LE  SOUS-PRE"FET, — Be  good  enough  to  take 
steps  with  the  bearer  as  to  the  election  in  Arcis,  and  con- 
form to  his  requirements  in  every  particular.  I  request 
you  to  be  absolutely  secret,  and  to  treat  him  with  the  respect 
due  to  his  rank." 

The  note  was  written  and  signed  by  the  Prefet  of  the  de- 
partment. 

"You  have  been  talking  prose  without  knowing  it,"  said  the 
Stranger,  as  he  took  the  letter  back. 

Antonin  Goulard,  already  impressed  by  the  man's  gentle- 
manly appearance  and  manner,  spoke  respectfully. 

"How  is  that,  monsieur?"  said  he. 

"By  trying  to  bribe  Anicette.  She  came  to  tell  me  of 
Julien's  offers — you  may  call  him  Julien  the  Apostate,  for 
little  Paradis,  my  tiger,  routed  him  completely,  and  he  ended 
by  confessing  that  you  were  anxious  to  place  Anicette  in  the 
service  of  the  richest  family  in  Arcis.  Now,  as  the  richest 
family  in  Arcis  are  the  Beauvisages,  I  presume  that  it  is 
Mademoiselle  Ceeile  who  is  anxious  to  secure  such  a 
treasure." 

"Yes,  monsieur." 

"Very  well,  Anicette  can  go  to  the  Beauvisages  at  once." 

He  whistled.  Paradis  appeared  so  promptly  that  his  master 
said: 

"You  were  listening." 

"I  cannot  help  myself,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  the  walls  are 
made  of  paper. — If  you  like,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  I  can  go  to 
an  upstairs  room." 

"No,  you  may  listen ;  it  is  your  privilege.  It  is  my  business 
to  speak  low  when  I  do  not  want  you  to  hear.  Now,  go  back 
to  Cinq-Cygne,  and  give  this  twenty-franc  piece  to  Anicette 
from  me. — Julien  will  be  supposed  to  have  bribed  her  on 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  93 

your  account/'  he  added,  turning  to  Goulard.  "This  gold 
piece  means  that  she  is  to  do  as  Julien  tells  her.  Anicette 
may  possibly  be  of  use  to  our  candidate." 

"Anicette !" 

"You  see,  Monsieur  le  Sous-prefet,  I  have  made  use  of  wait- 
ing-maids for  two-and-thirty  years.  I  had  my  first  adventure 
at  the  age  of  thirteen,  exactly  like  the  Regent,  the  present 
King's  great-great-grandfather. — Now,  do  you  know  the 
amount  of  this  demoiselle  Beauvisage's  fortune?" 

"No  one  can  help  knowing  it,  monsieur;  for  last  evening 
at  Madame  Marion's,  Madame  Severine  said  that  Monsieur 
Grevin,  Cecile's  grandfather,  would  give  her  the  Hotel  Beau- 
seant  and  two  hundred  thousand  francs  on  her  wedding 
day." 

The  Stranger's  eyes  betrayed  no  surprise;  he  seemed  to 
think  it  a  very  moderate  fortune. 

"Do  you  know  Arcis  well?"  he  asked  Goulard. 

"I  am  Sous-prefet  of  the  town,  and  I  was  born  here." 

"Well,  then;  how  can  I  balk  curiosity?" 

"By  satisfying  it,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  Use  your  Christian 
name ;  enter  that  and  your  title  on  the  register." 

"Very  good :  Comte  Maxime." 

"And  if  you  would  call  yourself  the  manager  of  a  railway 
company,  Arcis  would  be  content ;  you  could  keep  it  quiet  for 
a  fortnight  by  flying  that  flag." 

"No,  I  prefer  water- works ;  it  is  less  common.  I  have  come 
to  improve  the  waste-lands  of  the  province.  That,  my  dear 
Monsieur  Goulard,  will  be  an  excuse  for  inviting  myself  to 
dine  at  your  house  to  meet  the  Beauvisages — to-morrow.  I 
particularly  wish  to  see  them  and  study  them." 

"I  shall  be  only  too  happy,"  said  the  official.  "But  I 
must  ask  your  indulgence  for  the  poverty  of  my  establish- 
ment  " 

"If  I  succeed  in  directing  the  election  at  Arcis  in  accord- 
ance with  the  wishes  of  those  who  have  sent  me  here,  you, 

my  good  friend,  will  be  made  a  Prefet. — Read  these " 

and  he  held  out  two  other  letters. 


94  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCI8 

"Very  good,  Monsieur  le  Comte,"  said  Goulard,  as  he  re- 
turned them. 

"Make  out  a  list  of  all  the  votes  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Government.  Above  all,  we  must  not  appear  to  have  any 
mutual  understanding.  I  am  merely  a  speculator,  and  do 
not  care  a  fig  about  the  election." 

"I  will  send  the  police  superintendent  to  compel  you  to 
write  your  name  on  Poupart's  register." 

"Yes,  that  is  very  good.  Good-morning,  monsieur. — What 
a  land  we  live  in!"  he  went  on  in  a  loud  tone.  "It  is  im- 
possible to  stir  a  step  without  having  the  whole  posse  at  your 
heels — even  the  Sous-pref et !" 

"You  will  have  to  settle  that  with  the  head  of  the  police," 
replied  Antonin  emphatically. 

And  twenty  minutes  later  there  was  a  great  talk  at  Ma- 
dame Mollot's  of  high  words  between  the  Sous-prefet  and 
the  Stranger. 

"Well,  and  what  wood  is  the  log  made  of  that  has  dropped 
into  our  pool?"  asked  Olivier  Vinet  of  Goulard,  as  he  came 
away  from  the  inn. 

"A  certain  Comte  Maxime,  come  to  study  fche  geology  of 
the  district  in  the  hope  of  finding  mineral  sources,"  said 
Goulard  indifferently. 

".Ke-sources  you  should  say,"  replied  Olivier. 

"Does  he  fancy  he  can  raise  any  capital  in  these  parts?" 
asked  Monsieur  Martener. 

"I  doubt  our  royalist  people  seeing  anything  in  that  form 
of  mining,"  said  Vinet,  smiling. 

"What  do  you  expect,  judging  from  Madame  Marion's 
looks  and  movements?"  said  Antonin,  changing  the  con- 
versation by  pointing  out  Simon  and  his  aunt  in  eager  con- 
ference. 

Simon  had  gone  forward  to  meet  Madame  Marion,  and 
stood  talking  in  the  square. 

"Well,  if  he  were  accepted,  a  word  would  be  enough  to 
tell  him  so,  I  should  think,"  observed  Vinet. 

"Well?"  asked  the  two  men  at  once  as  Simon  came  up 
the  lime  walk. 


95 

"My  aunt  has  hopes.  Madame  Beauvisage  and  old  Grevin, 
who  was  starting  for  Gondreville,  were  not  surprised  at  our 
proposal;  our  respective  fortunes  were  discussed.  Cecile  is 
absolutely  free  to  make  her  own  choice.  Finally,  Madame 
Beauvisage  said  that  for  her  part  she  saw  no  objection  to 
a  connection  which  did  her  honor,  though,  at  the  same  time, 
she  must  make  her  consent  depend  on  my  election,  and 
possibly  on  my  appearing  in  the  Chamber;  and  old  Grevin 
said  he  must  consult  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  as  he  never 
came  to  any  important  decision  without  taking  his  advice." 

"So  you  will  not  marry  Cecile,  old  boy,"  said  Goulard 
bluntly. 

"And  why  not?"  said  Giguet  ironically. 

"My  dear  fellow,  Madame  Beauvisage  and  her  daughter 
spend  four  evenings  a  week  in  your  aunt's  drawing-room; 
Madame  Marion  is  the  most  thoroughly  fine  lady  in  Arcis. 
Though  she  is  twenty  years  the  elder,  she  is  the  object  of 
Madame  Beauvisage' s  envy;  and  do  you  suppose  they  could 
refuse  you  point-blank  without  some  little  civility?" 

"Neither  Yes  nor  No  is '  No,"  Vinet  went  on,  "in  view 
of  the  extreme  intimacy  of  your  two  families.  If  Madame 
Beauvisage  is  the  woman  of  fortune,  Madame  Marion  is  the 
most  looked  up  to;  for,  with  the  exception  of  the  presiding 
judge's  wife — who  sees  no  one — she  is  the  only  woman  who 
can  entertain  at  all;  she  is  the  queen  of  Arcis.  Madame 
Beauvisage  wishes  to  refuse  politely — that  is  all." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  old  Grevin  was  making  a  fool  of 
your  aunt,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Frederic  Marest.  "Yesterday 
you  attacked  the  Comte  de  Gondreville;  you,  hurt  him,  you 
offended  him  deeply — for  Achille  Pigoult  defended  him 
bravely — and  now  he  is  to  be  consulted  as  to  your  marrying 
Cecile !" 

"No  one  can  be  craftier  than  old  Grevin,"  said  Vinet. 

"Madame  Beauvisage  is  ambitious,"  Goulard  went  on, 
"and  knows  that  her  daughter  will  have  two  millions  of  francs. 
She  means  to  be  the  ..mother-in-law  of  a  minister  or  of  an 
ambassador,  so  as  to  lord  it  in  Paris." 


96  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Well,  and  why  not  that  ?"  said  Simon  Giguet. 

"I  wish  you  may  get  it !"  replied  Goulard,  looking  at  Vinet, 
and  they  laughed  as  they  went  on  their  way.  "He  will  not 
even  be  elected !"  he  went  on  to  Olivier.  "The  Government 
has  schemes  of  its  own.  You  will  find  a  letter  at  home  from 
your  father,  desiring  you  to  secure  every  one  in  your  con- 
nection who  ought  to  vote  for  their  masters.  Your  promotion 
depends  upon  it,  and  you  are  to  keep  your  own  counsel." 

"And  who  is  the  man  for  whom  they  are  to  vote — ushers, 
attorneys,  justice  of  the  peace,  and  notaries?"  asked  Vinet. 

"The  man  I  will  tell  you  to  vote  for." 

"But  how  do  you  know  that  my  father  has  written  to  me, 
and  what  he  has  written?" 

"From  the  Unknown." 

"The  man  of  mines?" 

"My  dear  Vinet,  we  are  not  to  know  him;  we  must  treat 
him  as  a  stranger. — He  saw  your  father  as  he  came  through 
Provins.  Just  now  this  individual  showed  me  a  letter  from 
the  Prefet  instructing  me  to  act  in  the  matter  of  the  elections 
as  I  shall  be  directed  by  this  Com te  Maxime.  I  should  not 
get  off  without  having  to  fight  a  battle,  that  I  knew !  Let 
us  dine  together  and  plan  our  batteries:  You  want  to  be 
Public  Prosecutor  at  Mantes,  and  I  to  be  Prefet,  and  we 
must  not  appear  to  meddle  in  the  elections,  for  we  are  between 
the  hammer  and  anvil.  Simon  is  the  candidate  put  forward 
by  the  party  who  want  to  upset  the  present  Ministry,  and 
who  may  succeed.  But  for  clear-sighted  men  like  us  there  is 
but  one  thing  to  do." 

"And  that  is?" 

"To  obey  those  who  make  and  unmake  ministries.  The 
letter  that  was  shown  to  me  was  from  a  man  in  the  secrets  of 
the  immutable  idea." 

Before  going  any  further,  it  will  be  necessary  to  explain 
who  this  "miner"  was,  and  what  he  hoped  to  extract  out  of 
the  province  of  Champagne. 

About  two  months  before  Simon  Giguet's  day  of  triumph 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  97 

as  a  candidate,  at  eleven  o'clock  one  evening,  just  as  tea 
was  being  served  in  the  Marquise  d'Espard's  drawing-room 
in  the  Eue  du  Faubourg  Saint-Honore,  the  Chevalier 
d;Espard,  her  brother-in-law,  as  he  set  his  cup  down  on 
the  chimney-shelf  and  looked  at  the  circle  round  the  fire,  ob- 
served : 

"Maxime  was  very  much  out  of  spirits  this  evening — did 
not  you  think  so?" 

"Well,"  replied  Rastignac,  "his  depression  is  very  natural. 
He  is  eight-and-forty ;  at  that  age  a  man  does  not  make 
friends;  and  when  we  buried  de  Marsay,  Maxime  lost  the 
only  one  who  could  thoroughly  understand  him,  who  could 
be  of  use  to  him,  or  make  use  of  him." 

"And  he  probably  has  some  pressing  debts.  Could  not 
you  put  him  in  the  way  of  paying  them  off?"  said  the 
Marquise  to  Rastignac. 

Rastignac  at  this  juncture  was  in  office  for  the  second 
time ;  he  had  just  been  created  Count,  almost  in  spite  of  him- 
self; his  father-in-law,  the  Baron  de  Nucingen,  had  been 
made  a  peer  of  France ;  his  brother  was  a  bishop ;  the  Comte 
de  la  Roche-Hugon,  his  brother-in-law,  was  ambassador ;  and 
he  was  supposed  to  be  an  indispensable  element  in  the  com- 
position of  any  future  ministry. 

"You  always  forget,  my  dear  Marquise,"  replied  Rastignac, 
"that  our  Government  changes  its  silver  for  nothing  but  gold ; 
it  takes  no  account  of  men." 

"Is  Maxime  a  man  to  blow  his  brains  out  ?"  asked  du  Tillet 
the  banker. 

"You  only  wish  he  were !  Then  we  should  be  quits,"  re- 
plied Maxime  de  Trailles,  who  was  supposed  by  all  to  have 
left  the  house. 

And  the  Count  rose  like  an  apparition  from  the  depths 
of  a  low  chair  behind  that  of  the  Chevalier  d'Espard. 

Everybody  laughed. 

"Will  you  have  a  cup  of  tea?"  asked  young  Madame  de 
Rastignac,  whom  the  Marquise  had  begged  to  do  the  honors 
of  the  tea-table. 


98  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"With  pleasure,"  said  the  Count,  coming  to  stand  in  front 
of  the  fire. 

This  man,  the  prince  of  the  rakes  of  Paris,  had,  till  now, 
maintained  the  position  of  superiority  assumed  by  dandies— 
in  those  days  known  in  Paris  as  gants  jaunes  (lemon-kids), 
and  since  then  as  lions.  It  is  needless  to  tell  the  story  of 
his  youth,  full  of  disreputable  adventures  and  terrible  dramas, 
in  which  he  had  always  managed  to  observe  the  proprieties. 
To  this  man  women  were  but  means  to  an  end;  he  had  no 
belief  in  their  sufferings  or  their  enjoyment ;  like  the  deceased 
de  Marsay,  he  regarded  them  as  naughty  children. 

After  running  through  his  own  fortune,  he  had  devoured 
that  of  a  famous  courtesan  known  as  La  belle  Hollandaise, 
the  mother  of  the  no  less  famous  Esther  Gobseck.  Then  he 
brought  trouble  on  Madame  de  Restaud,  Madame  Delphine 
de  Nucingen's  sister;  the  young  Comtesse  de  Rastignac  was 
Madame  de  Nucingen's  daughter. 

Paris  society  is  full  of  inconceivable  anomalies.  The 
Baronne  de  Nucingen  was  at  this  moment  in  Madame 
d'Espard's  drawing-room,  face  to  face  with  the  author  of  all 
her  sister's  misery — an  assassin  who  had  only  murdered 
a  woman's  happiness.  That,  no  doubt,  was  why  he  was 
there. 

Madame  de  Nucingen  had  dined  with  the  Marquise,  and 
her  daughter  with  her.  Augusta  de  ISTucingen  had  been 
married  for  about  a  year  to  the  Comte  de  Rastignac,  who  had 
started  on  his  political  career  by  holding  the  post  of  Under- 
secretary of  State  in  the  Ministry  formed  by  the  famous  de 
Marsay,  the  only  great  statesman  brought  to  the  front  by  the 
Revolution  of  July.  Count  Maxime  de  Trailles  alone  knew 
how  much  disaster  he  had  occasioned;  but  he  had  always 
sheltered  himself  from  blame  by  obeying  the  code  of  manly 
honor.  Though  he  had  squandered  more  money  in  his  life 
than  the  felons  in  the  four  penal  establishments  of  France  had 
stolen  in  the  same  time,  justice  treated  him  with  respect.  He 
had  never  failed  in  any  question  of  technical  honor;  he  paid 
his  gambling  debts  with  scrupulous  punctuality.  He  was  a 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  99 

capital  player,  and  the  partner  of  the  greatest  personages 
and  ambassadors.  He  dined  with  all  the  members  of  the 
Corps  diplomatique.  He  would  fight ;  he  had  killed  two  or 
three  men  in  his  time — nay,  he  had  murdered  them,  for  his 
skill  and  coolness  were  matchless. 

There  was  not  a  young  man  in  Paris  to  compare  with  him 
in  dress,  in  grace  of  manner,  in  pleasant  wit,  in  ease  and 
readiness,  in  what  used  to  be  called  the  grand  air.  As  page 
to  the  Emperor,  trained  from  the  age  of  twelve  in  horse 
exercise  of  every  kind,  he  was  a  noted  rider.  He  had  always 
five  horses  in  his  stables,  he  kept  racers,  he  set  the  fashion. 
Finally,  no  man  was  more  successful  than  he  in  giving  a 
supper  to  younger  men;  he  would  drink  with  the  stoutest, 
and  come  out  fresh  and  cool,  ready  to  begin  again,  as  if  orgies 
were  his  element. 

Maxime,  one  of  the  men  whom  everybody  despises,  but 
who  control  that  contempt  by  the  insolence  of  audacity  and 
the  fear  they  inspire,  never  deceived  himself  as  to  his  position. 
This  was  where  his  strength  lay.  Strong  men  can  always 
criticise  themselves. 

At  the  time  of  the  Restoration  he  had  turned  his  em- 
ployment as  page  to  the  Emperor  to  good  account.  He  at- 
tributed his  supposed  Bonapartist  proclivities  to  the  repulses 
he  had  met  with  from  a  succession  of  ministers  when  he  had 
wanted  to  serve  under  the  Bourbons;  for,  in  fact,  notwith- 
standing his  connections,  his  good  birth,  and  his  dangerous 
cleverness,  he  had  never  succeeded  in  getting  an  appointment. 
Then  he  had  joined  the  underground  conspiracy,  which  ended 
in  the  fall  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bourbons.  When  the 
younger  branch,  at  the  heels  of  the  Paris  populace,  had 
trampled  down  the  senior  branch,  and  established  itself  on  the 
throne,  Maxime  made  the  most  of  his  attachment  to  Napoleon, 
for  whom  he  cared  no  more  than  for  the  object  of  his  first 
flirtation.  He  then  did  good  service,  for  which  it  was  difficult 
to  make  a  return,  as  he  wanted  to  be  repaid  too  often  by 
people  who  knew  how  to  keep  accounts.  At  the  first  refusal 
Maxime  assumed  a  hostile  attitude,  threatening  to  rereal 


100  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

certain  not  very  creditable  details;  for  a  dynasty  first  set  up 
has,  like  infants,  dirty  linen  to  hide. 

De  Marsay,  in  the  course  of  his  career,  made  up  for  the 
blunders  of  those  who  had  undervalued  the  usefulness  of  this 
person;  he  employed  him  on  such  secret  errands  as  need  a 
conscience  hardened  by  the  hammer  of  necessity,  an  address 
which  is  equal  to  any  mode  of  action,  impudence,  and,  above 
all,  the  coolness,  presence  of  mind,  and  swift  apprehension 
of  affairs,  which  are  combined  to  make  a  bravo  of  scheming 
and  superior  policy.  Such  an  instrument  is  at  once  rare  and 
indispensable.  De  Marsay  intentionally  secured  to  Maxime 
de  Trailles  a  firm  footing  in  the  highest  social  circles;  he 
represented  him  as  being  a  man  matured  by  passion,  taught 
by  experience,  knowing  men  and  things,  to  whom  traveling 
and  a  faculty  of  observation  had  given  great  knowledge  of 
European  interests,  of  foreign  Cabinets,  and  of  the  connec- 
tions of  all  the  great  continental  families.  De  Marsay  im- 
pressed on  Maxime  the  necessity  for  doing  himself  credit; 
he  explained  to  him  that  discretion  was  not  so  much  a  virtue 
as  a  good  speculation;  he  proved  to  him  that  power  never 
evades  the  touch  of  a  strong  and  trustworthy  tool,  at  the  same 
time  elegant  and  polished. 

"In  political  life  you  can  only  squeeze  a  man  once,"  said 
he,  blaming  him  for  having  uttered  a  threat. 

And  Maxime  was  the  man  to  understand  all  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  axiom. 

At  de  Marsay's  death,  Comte  Maxime  de  Trailles  fell  back 
into  his  old  life.  He  went  every  year  to  gamble  at  water- 
ing-places, and  returned  to  spend  the  winter  in  Paris;  but, 
although  he  received  from  time  to  time  some  considerable 
sums  dug  out  of  the  depths  of  very  tight-locked  chests,  this 
sort  of  half-pay  due  to  a  man  of  spirit,  who  might  at  any 
moment  be  made  use  of,  and  who  was  in  the  confidence  of 
many  mysteries  of  antagonistic  diplomates,  was  insufficient 
for  the  extravagant  splendor  of  a  life  like  that  of  this  king 
of  the  dandies,  the  tyrant  of  four  or  five  Paris  clubs.  Hence 
the  Count  had  many  hours  of  uneasiness  over  the  financial 
question. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  101 

Haying  no  estates  or  investments,  he  had  never  been  able 
to  strengthen  his  position  by  being  elected  depute;  and  hav- 
ing no  ostensible  duties,  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  hold  the 
knife  to  a  great  man's  throat,  and  get  himself  made  a  peer 
of  France.  And  time  was  gaining  on  him ;  dissipation  of  all 
kinds  had  damaged  his  health  and  person.  In  spite  of  a 
handsome  appearance,  he  knew  it ;  he  did  not  deceive  himself. 
He  determined  to  settle,  to  marry.  He  was  too  clever  a  man 
to  overestimate  the  true  value  of  his  position ;  it  was,  he  knew, 
an  illusion.  So  he  could  not  find  a  wife  in  the  highest  Paris 
society,  nor  in  the  middle  class.  He  required  a  vast  amount 
of  spite,  with  apparent  sincerity  and  real  service  done,  to 
make  himself  acceptable;  for  every  one  hoped  for  his  fall, 
and  a  vein  of  ill-luck  might  be  his  ruin. 

If  once  he  should  find  himself  in  prison,  at  Clichy  or 
abroad,  as  a  result  of  some  bill  of  exchange  that  he  failed  to 
negotiate,  he  would  drop  into  the  gulf  where  so  many  political 
dead  men  are  to  be  seen  who  do  not  comfort  each  other.  At 
this  very  hour  he  was  dreading  the  falling  stones  from  some 
portions  of  the  awful  vault  which*  debts  build  up  over  many 
a  Parisian  head.  He  had  allowed  his  anxiety  to  be  seen  in 
his  face ;  he  had  refused  to  play  here  at  Madame  d'Espard's ; 
he  had  been  absent-minded  while  talking  to  ladies;  and 
he  had  ended  by  sitting  mute  and  absorbed  in  the  armchair 
from  which  he  now  rose  like  Banquo's  ghost. 

Comte  Maxime  de  Trailles,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
fire-front,  under  the  cross-lights  of  two  large  candelabra, 
found  himself  the  centre  of  direct  or  indirect  observation. 
The  few  words  that  had  been  said  required  him  to  assume 
an  attitude  of  defiance;  and  he  stood  there  like  a  man  of 
spirit,  but  without  arrogance,  determined  to  show  himself 
superior  to  suspicion.  A  painter  could  not  have  had  a 
more  favorable  moment  for  sketching  this  really  remarkable 
man. 

For  must  not  a  man  have  extraordinary  gifts  to  play  such 
a  part  as  his,  to  have  fascinated  women  for  thirty  years,  to 
have  commanded  himself  to  use  his  talents  only  in  a  secret 


102  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

sphere — exciting  a  people  to  rebel,  discovering  the  mysteries 
of  the  astutest  politicians,  and  triumphing  only  in  ladies' 
boudoirs  or  men's  private  rooms?  Is  there  not  something 
grand  in  being  able  to  rise  to  the  highest  schemes  of  political 
life,  and  then  calmly  drop  back  into  the  insignificance  of  a 
frivolous  existence?  A  man  must  be  of  iron  who  can  live 
through  the  alternations  of  the  gaming  table  and  the  sudden 
journeys  of  a  political  agent,  who  can  keep  up  the  war  footing 
of  elegance  and  fashion  and  the  expenses  of  necessary  civilities 
to  the  fair  sex,  whose  memory  is  a  perfect  library  of  craft 
and  falsehood,  who  can  hide  so  many  and  such  different  ideas, 
and  so  many  tricks  of  craft,  under  such  impenetrable  suavity 
of  manner.  If  the  breeze  of  favor  had  blown  steadily  on 
those  ever-spread  sails,  if  the  course  of  events  had  served 
Maxime  better,  he  might  have  been  a  Mazarin,  a  Marechal  de 
Kichelieu,  a  Potemkin — or  perhaps,  more  exactly,  a  Lauzun, 
minus  Pignerol. 

The  Count,  a  fairly  tall  man,  and  not  inclining  to  be  fat, 
had  a  certain  amount  of  stomach;  but  he  suppressed  it 
majestically — to  use  Britlat-Savarin's  words.  His  clothes, 
too,  were  so  well  made  that  his  figure  preserved  a  youthful 
aspect,  and  there  was  something  light  and  easy  in  his  move- 
ments, which  was  due,  no  doubt,  to  constant  exercise,  to  the 
habit  of  fencing,  riding,  and  shooting.  Maxime  had,  in 
fact,  all  the  physical  grace  and  distinction  of  an  aristocrat, 
enhanced  by  his  admirable  "get-up."  His  face  was  long,  of 
the  Bourbon  type>  framed  in  whiskers  and  a  beard  under  his 
chin,  carefully  cut  and  curled,  and  as  black  as  jet.  This  hue, 
matching  that  of  his  thick  hair,  was  preserved  by  the  use  of 
an  Indian  cosmetic,  very  expensive,  and  known  only  in  Persia, 
of  which  Maxime  kept  the  secret.  He  thus  cheated  the  keen- 
est eye  as  to  the  white  hairs  which  had  long  since  streaked  the 
natural  black.  The  peculiarity  of  this  dye,  used  by  the 
Persians  for  thin  beards,  is  that  it  does  not  make  the  features 
look  hard ;  it  can  be  softened  by  an  admixture  of  indigo,  and 
harmonizes  with  the  color  of  the  skin.  This,  no  doubt,  was 
the  operation  seen  by  Madame  Mollot ;  but  it  remains  to  this 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  103 

day  a  standing  joke  at  Arcis  to  wonder  now  and  again,  at 
the  evening  meetings,  "what  Madame  Mollot  did  see." 

Maxime  had  a  fine  forehead,  blue  eyes,  a  Grecian  nose, 
a  pleasant  mouth,  and  well-shaped  chin;  but  all  round  his 
eyes  were  a  myriad  wrinkles,  as  fine  as  if  they  had  been 
marked  with  a  razor — invisible,  in  fact,  at  a  little  distance. 
There  were  similar  lines  on  his  temples,  and  all  his  face  was 
a  good  deal  wrinkled.  His  eyes,  like  those  of  gamblers  who 
have  sat  up  night  after  night,  were  covered  with  a  sort  of  glaze ; 
but  their  look,  if  dimmed,  was  only  the  more  terrible — nay, 
terrifying.  It  so  evidently  covered  a  brooding  fire,  the  lavas 
of  half -extinguished  passions.  The  mouth  too,  once  fresh  and 
scarlet,  had  a  cold  shade,  and  it  was  not  quite  straight;  the 
right-hand  corner  drooped  a  little.  This  sinuous  line  seemed 
to  hint  at  falsehood.  Vice  had  disfigured  the  smile,  but  his 
teeth  were  still  sound  and  white. 

These  blemishes,  too,  were  overlooked  in  the  general  effect 
of  his  face  and  figure.  His  grace  was  still  so  attractive  that 
no  younger  man  could  compare  with  Maxime  on  horseback 
in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  where  he  appeared  more  youthful 
and  graceful  than  the  youngest  and  most  graceful  of  them 
all.  This  privilege  of  eternal  youth  has  been  seen  in  some 
men  of  our  day. 

De  Trailles  was  all  the  more  dangerous  because  he  seemed 
yielding  and  indolent,  and  never  betrayed  his  obstinate  fore- 
gone conclusions  on  every  subject.  This  charming  indiffer- 
ence, which  enabled  him  to  back  up  a  seditious  mob  with  as 
much  skill  as  he  could  have  brought  to  bear  orl  a  Court 
intrigue  to  strengthen  the  position  of  a  King,  had  a  certain 
charm.  No  one,  especially  in  France,  ever  distrusts  what 
seems  calm  and  homogeneous;  we  are  accustomed  to  so  much 
stir  about  trifles. 

The  Count,  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  1839,  had  on  a  black 
coat,  a  dark  blue  cashmere  waistcoat  embroidered  with  light 
blue  sprigs,  black  trousers,  gray  silk  socks,  and  patent  leather 
shoes.  His  watch,  in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  was  secured 
through"  a  button-hole  by  a  neat  gold  chain. 


104  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Rastignac,"  said  he,  as  he  accepted  the  cup  of  tea  held 
out  to  him  by  the  pretty  Countess,  "will  you  come  with  me 
to  the  Austrian  embassy?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  I  am  too  recently  married  not  to  go  home 
with  my  wife." 

"Which  means  that  by  and  by ?"  said  the  young  Count- 
ess, looking  round  at  her  husband. 

"By  and  by  is  the  end  of  the  world,"  replied  Maxime. 
"But  if  you  make  madame  the  judge,  that  will  win  the  case 
for  me,  I  think?" 

Count  Maxime,  with  a  graceful  gesture,  drew  the  pretty 
Countess  to  his  side ;  she  listened  to  a  few  words  he  said,  and 
then  remarked,  "If  you  like  to  go  to  the  embassy  with  Mon- 
sieur de  Trailles,  my  mother  will  take  me  home." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  Baronne  de  Nucingen  and  the 
Comtesse  de  Eastignac  went  away  together.  Maxime  and 
Rastignac  soon  followed ;  and  when  they  were  sitting  together 
in  the  carriage: 

"What  do  you  want  of  me,  Maxime?"  asked  the  husband. 
"What  is  the  hurry,  that  you  take  me  by  the  throat?  And 
Avhat  did  you  say  to  my  wife  ?" 

"That  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you,"  replied  Monsieur  de 
Trailles.  "You  are  a  lucky  dog,  you  are !  You  have  ended 
by  marrying  the  sole  heiress  of  the  Nucingen  millions — 
but  you  have  worked  for  it.  Twenty  years  of  penal  servi- 
tude  " 

"Maxime !" 

"While  I  find  myself  looked  at  askance  by  everybody,"  he 
went  on,  without  heeding  the  interruption.  "A  wretched 
creature — a  du  Tillet — asks  if  I  have  courage  enough  to  kill 
myself !  It  is  time  to  see  where  we  stand. — Do  they  want 
me  out  of  the  way,  or  do  they  not?  You  can  find  out — you 
must  find  out,"  said  Maxime,  silencing  Rastignac  by  a  gesture. 
"This  is  my  plan ;  listen  to  it.  You  ought  to  do  me  a  service 
— I  have  served  you,  and  can  serve  you  again.  The  life  I  am 
leading  bores  me,  and  I  want  a  pension.  Help  me  to  con- 
clude a  marriage  which  will  secure  me  half  a  million;  once 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  105 

married,  get  me  sent  as  Minister  to  some  wretched  American 
republic.  I  will  stay  there  long  enough  to  justify  my  ap- 
pointment to  a  similar  post  in  Germany.  If  I  am  good  for 
anything,  I  shall  be  promoted;  if  I  am  good  for  nothing,  I 
shall  be  cashiered. — I  may  have  a  son;  I  will  bring  him  up 
strictly;  his  mother  will  be  rich;  I  will  train  him  to 
diplomacy ;  he  may  become  an  ambassador !" 

"And  this  is  my  answer,"  said  Kastignac.  "There  is  a 
harder  struggle  to  be  fought  out  than  the  outside  world 
imagines  between  a  power  in  swaddling  clothes  and  a  child 
in  power.  The  power  in  swaddling  clothes  is  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies,  which,  not  being  restrained  by  a  hereditary 
Chamber " 

"Aha !"  said  Maxime,  "you  are  a  peer  of  France !" 

"And  shall  I  not  remain  so  under  any  government?"  said 
the  newly-made  peer.  "But  do  not  interrupt,  you  are  in- 
terested in  all  this  muddle.  The  Chamber  of  Deputies  will 
inevitably  be  the  whole  of  the  Government,  as  Marsay  used 
to  tell  us — the  only  man  who  might  have  rescued  France; 
for  a  nation  does  not  die ;  it  is  slave  or  free,  that  is  all.  The 
child  in  power  is  the  dynasty  crowned  in  the  month  of  August 
1830. 

"The  present  Ministry  is  beaten;  it  has  dissolved  the 
Chamber,  and  will  call  a  general  election  to  prevent  the  next 
Ministry  from  having  the  chance;  but  it  has  no  hope  of  a 
victory.  If  it  should  be  victorious  in  the  elections,  the 
dynasty  would  be  in  danger ;  whereas,  if  the  Ministry  is  turned 
out,  the  dynastic  party  may  struggle  on  and  hold  its  own  for 
some  time  yet.  The  blunders  of  the  Chamber  will  turn  to  the 
advantage  of  a  Will,  which,  unfortunately,  is  the  mainspring 
of  politics.  When  one  man  is  all  in  all,  as  Napoleon  was, 
the  moment  comes  when  he  must  have  representatives;  and 
as  superior  men  are  rejected,  the  great  Head  is  not  repre- 
sented. The  representative  is  called  the  Cabinet,  and.  in 
France  there  is  no  Cabinet — only  a  Will  for  life.  In  France 
only  those  who  govern  can  blunder,  the  Opposition  can  never 
blunder;  it  may  lose  every  battle  and  be  none  the  worse;  it 


106  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

is  enough  if,  like  the  Allies  in  1814,  it  wins  but  one  victory. 
With  'three  glorious  days'  is  could  destroy  everything.  Hence 
not  to  govern,  but  to  sit  and  wait,  is  to  be  the  next  heir  to 
power.  Now,  my  personal  feelings  are  on  the  side  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, my  public  opinions  on  that  of  the  dynasty  of  July. 
The  House  of  Orleans  has  helped  me  to  reinstate  the  fortunes 
of  my  family,  and  I  am  attached  to  it  for  ever." 

"The  for  ever  of  Monsieur  do  Talleyrand,  of  course,"  de 
Trailles  put  in. 

"So  at  the  present  moment  I  can  do  nothing  for  you,"  Kas- 
tignac  went  on.  "We  shall  not  be  in  power  these  six  months. 
— Yes,  for  those  six  months  we  shall  be  dying  by  inches ;  I  have 
always  known  it.  We  knew  our  fate  from  the  first ;  we  were 
but  a  stop-gap  ministry. — But  if  you  distinguish  yourself 
in  the  thick  of  the  electoral  fray  that  is  beginning,  if  you 
become  a  vote — a  member — faithful  to  the  reigning  dynasty, 
your  wishes  shall  be  attended  to.  I  can  say  a  great  deal 
about  your  zeal,  I  can  poke  my  nose  into  every  secret  docu- 
ment, every  private  and  confidential  letter,  and  find  you  some 
tough  place  to  work  up.  If  you  succeed,  I  can  urge  your 
claims — your  skill  and  devotion — and  demand  the  reward. 

"As  to  your  marriage,  my  dear  fellow,  that  can  only  be 
arranged  in  the  country  with  some  family  of  ambitious  manu- 
facturers. In  Paris  you  are  too  well  known.  The  thing  to 
find  is  a  millionaire,  a  parvenu,  with  a  daughter,  and  pos- 
sessed with  the  ambition  to  swagger  at  the  Tuileries." 

"Well;  but  get  your  father-in-law  to  lend  me  twenty-five 
thousand  francs  to  carry  me  over  meanwhile ;  then  he  will  be 
interested  in  my  not  being  dismissed  with  empty  promises, 
and  will  promote  my  marriage." 

"You  are  wide-awake,  Maxime,  and  you  do  not  trust  me. 
but  I  like  a  clever  fellow;  I  will  arrange  that  little  business 
for  you." 

The  carriage  stopped. 

The  Comte  de  Rastignac  saw  the  Minister  of  the  Interior 
in  the  Embassy  drawing-room,  and  drew  him  into  a  corner. 
The  Comte  de  Trailles  was  apparently  devoting  himself  to  the 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  107 

old  Comtesse  de  Listomere,  but  in  reality  he  was  watching 
the  two  men;  he  marked  their  gestures,  interpreted  their 
glances,  and  at  last  caught  a  friendly  look  towards  himself 
from  the  Minister's  eye. 

Maxime  and  Eastignac  went  away  together  at  one  in  tlie 
morning,  and  before  they  each  got  into  his  own  carriage,  Ras- 
tignac  said  on  the  stairs: 

"Come  to  see  me  when  the  elections  are  coming  on.  Be- 
tween this  and  then  I  shall  find  out  where  the  Opposition  is 
likely  to  be  strongest,  and  what  remedy  may  be  devised 
by  two  such  minds  as  ours." 

"I  am  in  a  hurry  for  those  twenty-five  thousand  francs !" 
replied  de  Trailles. 

"Well,  keep  out  of  sight." 

About  seven  weeks  later,  one  morning  before  it  was  light, 
the  Comte  de  Trailles  drove  mysteriously  in  a  hackney  cab 
to  the  Rue  de  Varenne.  He  dismissed  the  cab  on  arriving  at 
the  door  of  the  Minister  of  Public  Works,  looked  to  see  that 
he  was  not  watched,  and  then  waited  in  a  small  room  on  the 
first  floor  till  Eastignac  should  be  up.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
man-servant,  who  had  carried  in  Maxime's  card,  showed  him 
into  his  master's  room,  where  the  great  man  was  finishing  his 
toilet. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Minister,  "I  can  tell  you  a  secret 
which  will  be  published  in  the  newspapers  within  two  days, 
and  which  you  can  turn  to  good  account.  That  poor  Charles 
Keller,  who  danced  the  mazurka  so  well,  has  been  killed  in 
Africa,  and  he  was  our  candidate  for  the  borough  and  district 
of  Arcis.  His  death  leaves  a  gap.  Here  are  copies  of  the 
two  reports — one  from  the  Sous-prefet,  the  other  from  the 
Police  Commissioner — informing  the  Ministry  that  there  were 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  our  poor  friend's  election.  In  the 
Police  Commissioner's  letter  you  will  find  some  information 
as  to  the  state  of  the  town  which  will  be  sufficient  to  guide  a 
man  of  your  ability,  for  the  ambition  of  poor  Charles  Keller's 
opponent  is  founded  on  his  wish  to  marry  an  heiress.  To  a 
man  like  you  this  is  hint  enough. — The  Cinq-Cygnes,  the 


108  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Princesse  de  Cadignan,  and  Georges  de  Maufrigneuse  are 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  Arcis;  you  could  at  need  secure  the 
legitimist  votes. — So " 

"Do  not  wear  your  tongue  out,"  said  Maxime.  "Is  the 
Police  Commissioner  still  at  Arcis?" 

"Yes." 

"Give  me  a  line  to  him." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Eastignac,  giving  Maxime  a  packet 
of  papers,  "you  will  find  there  two  letters  written  to  Gondre- 
ville  to  introduce  you.  You  have  been  a  page,  he  was  a  sena- 
tor— you  will  understand  each  other. — Madame  Frangois 
Keller  is  addicted  to  piety;  here  is  a  letter  to  her  from  the 
Marechale  de  Carigliano.  The  Marechale  is  now  Orleanist ;  she 
recommends  you  warmly,  and  will,  in  fact,  be  going  to  Arcis. — 
I  have  only  one  word  to  add:  Be  on  your  guard  against  the 
Sous-prefet :  I  believe  him  to  be  very  capable  of  taking  up  this 
Simon  Giguet  as  an  advocate  with  the  ex-President  of  the 
Council.  If  you  need  more  letters,  powers,  introductions — 
write  to  me." 

"And  the  twenty-five  thousand  francs?"  asked  Maxime. 

"Sign  this  bill  on  du  Tillet ;  here  is  the  money." 

"I  shall  succeed,"  said  the  Count,  "and  you  can  promise 
the  authorities  that  the  Member  for  Arcis  will  be  theirs,  body 
and  soul.  If  I  fail,  pitch  me  overboard !" 

And  within  an  hour  Maxime  de  Trailles,  driving  his  tilbury, 
was  on  the  road  to  Arcis. 

As  soon  as  he  was  furnished  with  the  information  supplied 
by  the  landlady  of  the  Mulct  and  Antonin  Goulard,  Mon- 
sieur de  Trailles  lost  no  time  in  arranging  the  plan  of  his 
electoral  campaign — a  plan  so  obvious  that  the  reader  will 
have  divined  it  at  once.  This  shrewd  agent  for  his  own 
private  politics  at  once  set  up  Phileas  as  the  candidate  in  op- 
position to  Simon  Giguet;  and,  notwithstanding  that  the 
man  was  an  unlikely  cipher,  the  idea,  it  must  be  admitted, 
had  strong  chances  in  its  favor.  Beauvisage,  as  wearing  the 
halo  of  municipal  authority,  had,  with  the  great  mass  of  in- 
different voters,  the  advantage  of  being  known  by  reputation. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  109 

Logic  rules  the  development  of  affairs  here  below  more  than 
might  be  supposed — it  is  like  a  wife  to  whom,  after  every 
infidelity,  a  man  is  sure  to  return. 

Plain  sense  demands  that  the  electors  called  upon  to  choose 
a  representative  of  their  common  interests  should  always  be 
'amply  informed  as  to  his  fitness,  his  honesty,  and  his  char- 
acter. In  practice,  no  doubt,  this  theory  is  often  considerably 
strained;  but  whenever  the  electoral  flock  is  left  to  follow  its 
instincts,  and  can  believe  that  it  is  voting  in  obedience  to  its 
own  lights  and  intelligence,  it  may  be  trusted  to  throw  zeal 
and  conscious  pride  into  its  decisions;  hence,  while  knowing 
their  man  is  half  the  battle  in  the  electoral  sense,  to  know  his 
name  is,  at  any  rate,  a  good  beginning. 

Among  lukewarm  voters,  beginning  with  the  most  fervent, 
Phileas  was  certain,  in  the  first  instance,  to  secure  the  Gondre- 
ville  party.  Any  candidate  would  be  certain  of  the  support 
of  the  Viceroy  of  Arcis,  if  it  were  only  to  punish  the  audacity 
of  Simon  Giguet.  The  election  of  an  upstart,  in  the  very  act 
of  flagrant  ingratitude  and  hostility,  would  cast  a  slur  on  the 
Comte  de  GondreviMe's  provincial  supremacy,  and  must  be 
averted  at  any  cost.  Still,  Beauvisage  must  expect,  at  the 
first  announcement  of  his  parliamentary  ambition,  a  far  from 
flattering  or  encouraging  expression  of  surprise  on  the  part 
of  his  father-in-law  Grevin.  The  old  man  had,  once  for  all, 
taken  his  son-in-law's  measure ;  and  to  a  mind  as  well  balanced 
and  clear  as  his,  the  notion  of  Phileas  as  a  statesman  would 
have  the  same  unpleasant  effect  as  a  startling  discord  has  on 
the  ear.  Also,  if  it  is  true  that  no  man  is  a  prophet  in  his 
own  country,  he  is  still  less  so  in  his  own  family,  where  any 
recognition  of  even  the  most  indisputable  success  is  grudged 
or  questioned  long  after  it  has  ceased  to  be  doubted  by  the 
outer  world.  But,  the  first  shock  over,  Grevin  would  proba- 
bly become  accustomed  to  an  alternative,  which,  after  all, 
was  not  antagonistic  to  his  own  notions  for  the  future  exist- 
ence of  Severine.  And  then  what  sacrifice  would  he  not  be 
ready  to  make  to  save  the  high  influence  of  the  Gondrevilles, 
so  evidently  endangered? 


110  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

To  the  legitimist  and  republican  parties,  neither  of  which 
could  have  any  weight  in  the  elections  excepting  to  turn  the 
scale,  Monsieur  de  Trailles'  nominee  had  one  strange  recom- 
mendation— namely,  his  acknowledged  ineptitude.  These 
two  fractional  elements  of  the  anti-dynastic  opposition  knew 
that  neither  was  strong  enough  to  return  a  member;  hence 
they  would  probably  be  eager  to  embrace  an  opportunity  of 
playing  a  trick  on  what  they  disdainfully  called  the  estab- 
lished order  of  things;  and  it  might  confidently  be  expected 
that,  in  cheerful  desperation,  they  would  heartily  contribute 
to  the  success  of  a  candidate  so  grossly  ridiculous  as  to  reflect 
a  broad  beam  of  ridicule  on  the  Government  that  could  sup- 
port his  election.  Finally,  in  the  suffrages  of  the  Left 
Centre,  which  had  provisionally  accepted  Simon  Giguet  as  its 
candidate,  Beauvisage  would  give  rise  to  a  strong  secession, 
since  he  too  gave  himself  out  as  opposed  to  the  reigning 
dynasty;  and  Monsieur  de  Trailles,  pending  further  orders, 
while  assuring  the  Mayor  of  the  support  of  the  Ministry, 
meant  to  encourage  that  political  bias,  which  was  undoubt- 
edly the  most  popular  on  the  scene  of  operations. 

Whatever  budget  of  convictions  the  incorruptible  repre- 
sentative might  carry  with  him  to  Paris,  his  horoscope  was 
drawn;  it  was  quite  certain  that  on  his  very  first  appearance 
at  the  Tuileries,  august  fascination  would  win  him  over  to 
fanaticism,  if  the  mere  snares  of  ministerial  enticement  were 
not  enough  to  produce  that  result. 

Public  interest  being  so  satisfactorily  arranged  for,  the 
electoral  agent  had  now  to  consider  the  personal  question: 
Whether,  while  manufacturing  a  deputy,  he  could  find  the 
stuff  that  would  also  make  a  father-in-law.  The  first  point 
— the  fortune,  and  the  second  point — the  young  lady,  met  his 
views;  the  first  without  dazzling  him,  the  second  without 
his  being  blind  to  the  defects  of  a  provincial  education  which 
must  be  corrected  from  the  beginning,  but  which  would  proba- 
bly not  offer  any  serious  resistance  to  his  skilful  marital 
guidance.  Madame  Beauvisage  carried  her  husband  away  by 
storm;  she  was  an  ambitious  woman,  who,  in  spite  of  her 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  111 

four-and-forty  years,  still  seemed  conscious  of  a  heart.  Con- 
sequently, the  best  game  to  play  would  perhaps  be  a  feint  at- 
tack on  her,  to  be  subsequently  turned  on  the  daughter. 

How  far  must  the  advanced  works  be  carried  ?  A  question 
to  be  answered  as  circumstances  might  direct.  In  any  case, 
so  far  as  the  two  women  were  concerned,  Maxime  felt  that 
he  had  the  strong  recommendation  of  his  title,  his  reputation 
as  a  man  of  fashion,  and  his  peculiar  fitness  to  initiate  them 
into  the  elegant  and  difficult  arcana  of  Paris  life ;  and,  finally, 
as  the  founder  of  Beauvisage's  political  fortunes,  which 
promised  such  a  happy  revolution  in  the  life  of  these  two 
exiled  ladies,  might  not  Monsieur  de  Trailles  expect  to  find 
them  enthusiastically  grateful? 

At  the  same  time,  there  remained  one  serious  difficulty  in 
the  way  of  a  successful  matrimonial  campaign.  He  must 
obtain  the  consent  of  old  Grevin,  who  was  not  the  man  to 
allow  Cecile's  marriage  without  making  the  strictest  inquiries 
into  the  past  career  of  her  suitor.  Now,  in  the  event  of  such 
an  inquiry,  was  there  not  some  fear  that  a  punctilious  old 
man  might  fail  to  find  a  record  of  such  complete  security  and 
conventional  virtues  as  his  prudence  might  insist  on? 

The  semi-governmental  mission  which  had  brought  Mon- 
sieur de  Trailles  to  Arcis  would  indeed  give  a  semblance  of 
such  importance  and  amendment  as  might  be  calculated  to 
neutralize  the  effect  of  certain  items  of  information.  And  if, 
before  this  mission  were  made  public,  it  were  confided  as  a 
great  secret  to  Grevin  by  Gondreville,  the  old  man's  vanity 
would  be  flattered,  and  that  would  score  in  Maxime's  favor. 

He  then  resolved,  in  this  difficult  predicament,  to  adopt 
the  very  old  trick  attributed  to  Gribouille,  consisting  in 
throwing  himself  into  the  water  to  avoid  getting  wet.  He 
would  anticipate  the  old  notary's  suspicions ;  he  himself  would 
seem  to  doubt  his  own  prudence ;  and,  by  way  of  a  precaution 
against  the  temptations  that  had  so  long  beset  him,  he  de- 
termined to  make  it  a  preliminary  condition  that  Chile's 
fortune  should  be  expressly  settled  on  herself.  By  this 


112  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

means  they  would  feel  safe  against  any  relapse  on  his  part 
into  habits  of  extravagance. 

It  would  be  his  business  to  acquire  such  influence  over  his 
young  wife  as  would  enable  him,  by  acting  on  her  feelings, 
to  recover  the  conjugal  authority  of  which  such  a  marriage- 
contract  would  deprive  him. 

At  first  nothing  occurred  to  make  him  doubt  the  wisdom 
and  perspicacity  of  all  these  projects.  As  soon  as  it  was 
mooted,  the  nomination  of  Beauvisage  caught  fire  like  a 
train  of  gunpowder;  and  Monsieur  de  Trailles  thought  the 
success  of  'all  his  schemes  so  probable,  that  he  felt  justified  in 
writing  to  Eastignac,  pledging  himself  to  carry  out  his 
mission  with  the  happiest  and  completest  results. 

But,  suddenly,  in  opposition  to  Beauvisage  the  triumphant, 
another  candidate  appeared  on  the  scene;  and,  it  may  be 
incidentally  noted,  that,  for  the  good  fortune  of  this  piece  of 
history,  the  competitor  presented  himself  under  conditions  so 
exceptional  and  so  unforeseen  that,  instead  of  a  picture  of 
petty  conflicts  attending  a  country  election,  it  may  very  proba- 
bly afford  the  interest  of  a  far  more  exciting  drama. 

The  man  who  intervenes  in  this  narrative  to  fill  so  high 
a  calling  will  be  called  upon  to  play  so  important  a  part  that 
it  is  necessary  to  introduce  him  by  a  somewhat  lengthy 
retrospective  explanation.  But  at  the  stage  we  have  reached, 
to  interrupt  the  story  by  a  sort  of  argument  in  the  middle 
would  be  a  breach  of  all  the  laws  of  art,  and  expose  me  to 
the  wrath  of  the  Critic,  that  sanctimonious  guardian  of 
literary  orthodoxy. 

In  the  presence  of  such  a  dilemma,  the  author  would  find 
himself  in  serious  difficulties,  but  that  his  lucky  star  threw 
in  his  way  a  correspondence  in  which  he  found  every  detail 
he  could  wish  to  place  before  the  reader  set  forth  in  order, 
with  a  brilliancy  and  vividness  he  could  not  have  hoped  to 
achieve. 

These  letters  are  worthy  of  being  read  with  attention. 
While  they  bring  on  to  the  scene  many  actors  in  the  Human 
Comedy  who  have  appeared  before,  they  explain  a  number 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  113 

of  facts  indispensable  to  the  understanding  and  progress  of 
this  particular  drama.  When  they  have  been  presented,  and 
the  narrative  thus  brought  up  to  the  point  where  it  now 
apparently  breaks  off,  it  will  resume  its  course  without  any 
hiatus;  and  the  author  flatters  himself  that  the  introduction 
for  a  time  of  the  epistolary  form,  instead  of  destroying  its 
urr'ty,  may,  in  fact,  enhance  it. 


PART  II. 

EDIFYING  LETTERS 

The  Comte  de  VEstorade  to  Marie-Gaston.* 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — In  obedience  to  your  request,  I  have  seen 
[M.  the  Prefet  of  Police,  to  ascertain  whether  the  pious  pur- 
pose of  which  you  speak  in  your  letter  dated  from  Carrara 
will  meet  with  any  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  authorities. 
He  informs  me  that  the  Imperial  decree  of  the  23rd  Prairial 
of  the  year  XII.,  which  is  still  paramount  on  all  points  con- 
nected with  interments,  establishes  beyond  a  doubt  the  right 
of  every  landowner  to  be  buried  in  his  own  ground.  You 
have  only  to  apply  for  permission  from  the  Prefet  of  the  De- 
partment—rSeine-et-Oise — and  without  any  further  formality, 
you  can  transfer  the  mortal  remains  of  Madame  Marie- 
Gaston  to  the  monument  you  propose  to  erect  to  her  in  your 
P«*TK  at  Ville-d'Avray. 

But  I  may  now  be  so  bold  as  to  suggest  to  you  some  ob- 
jections. Are  you  quite  sure  that  difficulties  may  not  be 
raised  by  the  Chaulieu  family,  with  whom  you  are  not  on  the 
best  terms  ?  In  fact,  might  they  not,  up  to  a  certain  point,  be 
justified  in  complaining  that,  by  removing  a  tomb — dear  to 
them  as  well  as  to  you — from  a  public  cemetery  to  private  and 
enclosed  ground,  you  are  regulating  the  visits  they  may  wish 
to  pay  to  that  grave  by  your  own  arbitrary  will  and  pleasure  ? 
Since,  evidently,  it  will  be  in  your  power  to  prohibit  their 
coming  on  to  your  property. 

I  am  well  aware  that,  strictly  speaking,  a  wife,  living  or 
dead,  belongs  to  her  husband,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
relationship  however  near.  But  if,  under  the  promptings  of 

*  See  Mfmoires  de  deuxjeunes  Marie'es. 
(114) 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  115 

the  ill-feeling  they  have  already  manifested  towards  you  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  Madame  Marie-Gaston's  parents 
should  choose  to  dispute  your  decision  by  an  action  at  law, 
what  a  painful  business  it  must  be !  You  would  gain  the  day, 
I  make  no  doubt,  the  Due  de  Chaulieu's  influence  being  no 
longer  what  it  was  at  the  time  of  the  Bestoration;  but  have 
you  considered  what  venom  an  advocate's  tongue  can  infuse 
into  such  a  question,  especially  when  arguing  a  very  natural 
claim:  that  of  a  father,  mother,  and  two  brothers,  pleading 
to  be  left  in  possession  of  the  melancholy  gratification  of 
praying  over  a  grave? 

And  if  I  must  indeed  tell  you  my  whole  mind,  it  is  with 
deep  regret  that  I  find  you  inventing  new  forms  of  cherish- 
ing your  grief,  too  long  inconsolable.  We  had  hoped  that, 
after  spending  two  years  in  Italy,  you  would  return  more 
resigned,  and  would  make  up  your  mind  to  seek  some  diversion 
from  your  sorrow  in  active  life.  But  this  sort  of  temple  to 
ardent  memories  which  you  are  proposing  to  erect  in  a  place 
where  they  already  crush  you  too  closely,  can  only  prolong 
their  bitterness,  and  I  cannot  approve  the  perennial  renewal 
you  will  thus  confer  on  them. 

However,  as  we  are  bound  to  serve  our  friends  in  their 
own  way,  I  have  conveyed  your  message  to  Monsieur 
Dorlange;  still,  I  cannot  but  tell  you  that  he  was  far  from 
eager  to  enter  into  your  views.  His  first  words,  when  I  an- 
nounced myself  as  representing  you,  were  that  he  had  not 
the  honor  of  knowing  you;  and,  strange  as  the  reply  may 
seem  to  you,  it  was  spoken  with  such  perfect  simplicity,  that 
at  first  I  imagined  I  had  made  some  mistake,  some  confusion 
of  names.  However,  as  your  oblivious  friend  presently  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  been  at  school  at  the  college  of  Tours, 
and  also  that  he  was  the  same  M.  Dorlange  who,  in  1831,  had 
taken  the  first  prize  for  sculpture  under  quite  exceptional 
circumstances,  I  could  entertain  no  doubt  as  to  his  identity. 
I  then  accounted  to  myself  for  his  defective  memory  by  the 
long  break  in  your  intercourse,  of  which  you  wrote.  That 
neglect  must  have  wounded  him  more  than  you  imagined; 


116  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

and  when  he  affected  not  even  to  recollect  your  name,  it  was 
a  revenge  he  was  not  sorry  to  take. 

This,  however,  is  not  the  real  obstacle. 

Eemembering  on  what  brotherly  terms  you  had  formerly 
been,  I  could  not  believe  that  M.  Dorlange's  wrath  would  be 
inexorable.  And  so,  after  explaining  to  him  the  work  he 
was  invited  to  undertake,  I  was  about  to  enter  on  some  ex- 
planations as  to  his  grievance  against  you,  when  I  was  met  by 
the  most  unlooked-for  obstacle. 

"Indeed,"  said  he,  "the  importance  of  the  commission  you 
are  good  enough  to  propose  to  me,  the  assurance  that  no  out- 
lay will  be  thought  too  great  for  the  dignity  and  perfection 
of  the  work,  the  invitation  to  set  out  myself  for  Carrara  to 
superintend  the  choice  and  extraction  of  the  marbles, — the 
whole  thing  is  a  piece  of  such  great  good  fortune  for  an 
artist,  that  at  any  other  time  I  should  have  accepted  it 
eagerly.  But  at  this  moment,  when  you  honor  me  with  a 
call,  though  I  have  no  fixed  intention  of  abandoning  my 
career  as  an  artist,  I  am  possibly  about  to  be  launched  in 
political  life.  My  friends  are  urging  me  to  come  forward 
as  a  candidate  at  the  coming  elections;  and,  as  you  will  un- 
derstand, monsieur,  if  I  should  be  returned,  the  complication 
of  parliamentary  duties,  and  my  initiation  into  a  new  ex- 
perience, would,  for  some  time  at  any  rate,  stand  in  the  way  of 
undertaking  such  a  work  as  you  propose,  with  the  necessary 
leisure  and  thought.  Also,"  added  M.  Dorlange,  "I  should 
be  working  in  the  service  of  a  great  sorrow  anxious  to  find 
consolation  at  any  cost  in  the  projected  monument.  That 
sorrow  would  naturally  be  impatient ;  I  should  inevitably  be 
slow,  disturbed,  hindered ;  it  will  be  better,  therefore,  to  apply 
to  some  one  else — which  does  not  make  me  less  grateful  for 
the  honor  and  confidence  you  have  shown  me." 

After  listening  to  this  little  speech,  very  neatly  turned,  as 
you  perceive,  it  struck  me  that  your  friend  was  anticipating 
parliamentary  triumphs,  perhaps  a  little  too  confidently, 
and,  for  a  moment,  I  thought  of  hinting  at  the  possibility 
of  his  failing  at  the  election,  and  asking  whether,  in  that 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  117 

case,  I  might  call  on  him  again.  But  it  is  never  polite  to 
cast  doubts  on  popular  success;  and  as  I  was  talking  to  a 
man  already  much  offended,  I  would  not  throw  oil  on  the  fire 
by  a  question  that  might  have  been  taken  amiss.  I  merely 
expressed  my  regrets,  and  said  I  would  let  you  now  the  result 
of  my  visit. 

I  need  hardly  say  that  within  a  few  days  I  shall  have  found 
out  what  are  the  prospects  of  this  parliamentary  ambition 
which  has  arisen  so  inopportunely  in  our  way.  For  my  part, 
there  seem  to  me  to  be  a  thousand  reasons  for  expecting  it 
to  miss  fire.  Assuming  this,  you  would  perhaps  do  well  to 
write  to  M.  Dorlange ;  for  his  manner,  though  perfectly  polite 
and  correct,  appeared  to  confess  a  still  lively  memory  of  some 
wrong  for  which  you  will  have  to  obtain  forgiveness.  I  know 
that  it  must  be  painful  to  you  to  explain  the  very  singular 
circumstances  of  your  marriage,  for  it  will  compel  you  to 
retrace  the  days  of  your  happiness,  now  so  cruel  a  memory. 
But,  judging  from  what  I  saw  of  your  old  friend,  if  you  are 
really  bent  on  his  giving  you  the  benefit  of  his  talents,  if  you 
do  not  apply  to  him  yourself,  but  continue  to  employ  a  go- 
between,  you  will  be  persisting  in  a  course  which  he  finds 
disobliging,  and  expose  yourself  to  a  final  refusal. 

At  the  same  time,  if  the  step  I  urge  on  you  is  really  too 
much  for  you,  there  is  perhaps  another  alternative.  Madame 
de  1'Estorade  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  very  tactful 
negotiator  in  any  business  she  undertakes,  and  in  this  partic- 
ular instance  I  should  feel  entire  confidence  in  her  skill. 
She  endured,  from  Madame  Marie-Gaston's  gusts  of  selfish 
passion,  treatment  much  like  that  of  which  Monsieur  Dor- 
lange complains.  She,  better  than  anybody,  will  be  in  a 
position  to  explain  to  him  the  absorbing  cares  of  married  life 
which  you  shut  in  its  own  narrow  folds;  and  it  seems  to  me 
that  the  example  of  long-suffering  and  patience  which  she  al- 
ways showed  to  her  whom  she  would  call  her  "dear  crazy 
thing,"  cannot  fail  to  infect  your  friend. 

You  have  ample  time  to  think  over  the  use  you  may  wish 
to  make  of  the  opening  that  thus  offers.  Madame  de 


118  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

1'Estorade  is  just  now  suffering  from  a  nervous  shock,  the 
result  of  a  terrible  fright.  A  week  ago  our  dear  little  Nais 
was  within  an  ace  of  being  crushed  before  her  eyes;  and  but 
for  the  courage  of  a  stranger  who  rushed  at  the  horses'  heads 
and  brought  them  up  short,  God  knows  what  dreadful  mis- 
fortune would  have  befallen  us.  This  fearful  moment  pro- 
duced in  Madame  de  1'Estorade  an  attack  of  nervous  excite- 
ment which  made  us  for  a  time  excessively  anxious.  Though 
she  is  much  better  to-day,  it  will  be  some  days  yet  before  she 
can  see  Monsieur  Dorlange,  supposing  you  should  think  her 
feminine  intervention  desirable  and  useful. 

Still,  once  again,  my  dear  sir,  would  it  not  be  wiser  to 
give  up  your  idea  ?  All  I  can  foresee  as  the  outcome  for  you 
is  enormous  expense,  unpleasant  squabbles  with  the  Chaulieus, 
and  a  renewal  of  your  sorrows.  Notwithstanding,  I  am  none 
the  less  at  your  service  in  and  for  anything,  as  I  cannot  fail 
to  be,  from  every  sentiment  of  esteem  and  friendship. 

The  Comtesse  de  1'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PARIS,  February  1839. 

DEAR  FRIEND, — Of  all  the  expressions  of  sympathy  that 
have  reached  me  since  the  dreadful  accident  to  my  poor  child, 
none  has  touched  me  more  deeply  than  your  kind  letter.  To 
answer  your  affectionate  inquiry,  I  must  say  that  in  that  ter- 
rible moment  Nais  was  marvelously  composed  and  calm.  It 
would  be  impossible,  I  think,  to  see  death  more  imminent,  but 
neither  at  the  time  nor  afterwards  did  the  brave  child  flinch ; 
everything  shows  her  to  have  a  firm  nature,  and  her  health, 
thank  God,  has  not  suffered  in  the  faintest  degree. 

I,  for  my  part,  as  a  consequence  of  my  intense  fright, 
have  had  an  attack  of  spasmodic  convulsions,  and  for  some 
days,  it  would  seem,  alarmed  my  doctor,  who  feared  I  might 
go  out  of  my  mind.  Thanks,  however,  to  a  strong  constitu- 
tion, I  am  now  almost  myself  again,  and  no  traces  would  re- 
main of  that  painful  shock  if  it  had  not,  by  a  singular 
fatality,  been  connected  with  another  unpleasant  circum- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  119 

stance  which  had  for  some  time  thought  fit  to  fill  a  place  in 
my  life. 

Even  before  this  latest  kind  assurance  of  your  good- 
will towards  me,  I  had  thought  of  turning  to  the  help  of 
your  friendship  and  advice;  and  now,  when  you  are  so  good 
as  to  write  that  you  would  be  happy  and  proud  if  in  any 
degree  you  might  take  the  place  of  poor  Louise  de  Chaulieu, 
the  dear,  incomparable  friend  snatched  from  me  by  death, 
how  can  I  hesitate?  I  take  you  at  your  word,  my  dear  ma- 
dame,  and  boldly  request  you  to  exert  in  my  favor  the  delicate 
skill  which  enabled  you  to  defy  impertinent  comment  when 
the  impossibility  of  announcing  your  marriage  to  Monsieur  de 
Camps  exposed  you  to  insolent  and  perfidious  curiosity — the 
peculiar  tact  by  which  you  extricated  yourself  from  a  position 
of  difficulty  and  danger — in  short,  the  wonderful  art 
which  allowed  you  at  once  to  keep  your  secret  and  maintain 
your  dignity.  I  need  their  help  in  the  disagreeable  matter 
to  which  I  have  alluded.  Unfortunately,  to  benefit  by  the 
doctor's  advice,  the  patient  must  explain  the  case;  and  here 
M.  de  Camps,  with  his  genius  for  business,  seems  to  me  an 
atrocious  person.  Owing  to  those  odious  forges  he  has 
chosen  to  buy,  you  are  as  good  as  dead  to  Paris  and  the 
world.  Of  old,  when  you  were  at  hand,  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour's  chat  I  could  have  told  the  whole  story  without  hesitancy 
or  preparation;  as  it  is,  I  have  to  think  it  all  out  and  go 
through  the  solemn  formality  of  a  confession  in  black  and 
white. 

After  all,  effrontery  will  perhaps  best  serve  my  turn;  and 
since,  in  spite  of  circumlocutions  and  preambles,  I  must  at 
last  come  to  the  point,  why  not  confess  at  once  that  at  the 
kernel  of  the  matter  is  that  very  stranger  who  rescued  my 
poor  little  girl.  A  stranger — be  it  clearly  understood — to 
M.  de  1'Estorade,  and  to  all  who  may  have  reported  the  ac- 
cident ;  a  stranger  to  the  whole  world,  if  you  please — but  not 
to  your  humble  servant,  whom  this  man  has  for  three  months 
past  condescended  to  honor  with  the  most  persistent  atten- 
tion. If  cannot  seem  any  less  preposterous  to  you  than  it 


120  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

does  to  me,  my  dear  friend,  that  I,  at  two-and-thirty,  with 
three  children,  one  a  tall  son  of  fifteen,  should  have  become 
the  object  of  unremitting  devotion,  and  }ret  that  is  the 
absurd  misfortune  against  which  I  have  to  protect  myself. 

And  when  I  say  that  I  know  the  unknown,  this  is  but 
partly  true:  I  know  neither  his  name  nor  his  place  of  resi- 
dence, nor  anything  about  him;  I  never  met  him  in  society; 
and  I  may  add  that  though  he  has  the  ribbon  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor,  nothing  in  his  appearance,  which  has  no  trace  of 
elegance,  leads  me  to  suppose  that  I  ever  shall  meet  him  in 
society. 

It  was  at  the  Church  of  Saint-Thomas  d'Aquin,  where,  as 
you  know,  I  was  in  the  daily  habit  of  attending  Mass,  that 
this  annoying  "shadowing"  first  began.  I  also  took  the 
children  out  walking  in  the  Tuileries  almost  every  day,  M. 
de  1'Estorade  having  taken  a  house  without  a  garden.  This 
custom  was  soon  noted  by  my  persecutor,  and  gave  him  bold- 
ness; for  wherever  I  was  to  be  found  out  of  doors  I  had  to 
put  up  with  his  presence.  But  this  singular  adorer  was  as 
prudent  as  he  was  daring;  he  always  avoided  following  me 
to  my  door ;  and  he  steered  his  way  at  such  a  distance  and  so 
undemonstratively,  that  I  had  at  any  rate  the  comforting 
certainty  that  his  foolish  assiduity  could  not  attract  the 
notice  of  anybody  who  was  with  me.  And  yet,  Heaven  alone 
knows  to  what  inconveniences  and  privations  I  have  sub- 
mitted to  put  him  off  my  track.  I  never  entered  the  church 
but  on  Sunday ;  and  to  the  risk  of  the  dear  children's  health 
I  have  often  kept  them  at  home,  or  invented  excuses  for  not 
going  out  with  them,  leaving  them  to  the  servants — against 
all  my  principles  of  education  and  prudence. 

Visits,  shopping — I  can  do  nothing  but  in  a  carriage;  and 
all  this  could  not  hinder  that,  just  when  I  fancied  I  had 
routed  this  tiresome  person  and  exhausted  his  patience,  he 
was  on  the  spot  to  play  so  brave  and  providential  a  part  in 
that  dreadful  accident  to  ISTai's.  But  it  is  this  very  obligation 
which  I  now  owe  him  that  introduces  a  vexations  complica- 
tion into  a  position  already  so  awkward.  If  I  had  at  last 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  121 

been  too  much  annoyed  by  his  persistency  I  might  by  some 
means,  even  by  some  decisive  action,  have  put  an  end  to  his 
persecution ;  but  now,  if  he  comes  across  my  path,  what  can 
I  do?  How  am  I  to  proceed?  Merely  to  thank  him  would 
be  to  encourage  him;  and  even  if  he  should  not  try  to  take 
advantage  of  my  civilities  to  alter  our  relative  position,  I 
should  have  him  at  my  heels  closer  than  ever. — Am  I  then 
not  to  notice  him,  to  affect  not  to  recognize  him?  But,  my 
dear  madame,  think !  A  mother  who  owes  her  child's  life 
to  his  efforts  and  pretends  not  to  perceive  it — who  has  not 
a  word  of  gratitude ! 

This,  then,  is  the  intolerable  dilemma  in  which  I  find  my- 
self, and  you  can  see  how  sorely  I  need  your  advice  and  judg- 
ment. What  can  I  do  to  break  the  odious  habit  this  gentle- 
man has  formed  of  following  me  like  my  shadow  ?  How  am 
I  to  thank  him  without  exciting  his  imagination,  or  to  avoid 
thanking  him  without  suffering  the  reproaches  of  my  con- 
science ?  This  is  the  problem  I  submit  to  your  wisdom. 

If  you  will  do  me  the  service  of  solving  it — and  I  know 
no  one  else  so  capable — I  shall  add  my  gratitude  to  the 
affection  which,  as  you  know,  dear  madame,  I  already  feel 
for  you. 

The  Comte  de  I'Estorade  to  Marie-Gaston. 

PARIS,  February  1839. 

The  public  prints,  my  dear  sir,  may  have  been  beforehand 
in  giving  you  an  account  of  a  meeting  between  your  friend 
M.  Dorlange  and  the  Due  de  Rhetore,  But  the  newspapers, 
by  announcing  the  bare  facts — since  custom  and  propriety 
do  not  allow  them  to  expatiate  on  the  motives  of  the  quarrel 
— will  only  have  excited  your  curiosity  without  satisfying  it. 
I  happen  to  know  on  good  authority  all  the  details  of  the 
affair,  and  I  hasten  to  communicate  them  to  you,  as  they 
must  to  you  be  of  the  greatest  interest. 

Three  days  ago,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  evening  of  the  day 
when  I  had  called  on  M.  Dorlange,  the  Due  de  Rhetore  was 
in  a  stall  at  the  opera.  M.  de  Ronquerolles,  who  has  lately 


122  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

returned  from  a  diplomatic  mission  that  had  detained  him  far 
from  Paris  for  some  years,  presently  took  the  seat  next  to 
him.  Between  the  acts  these  gentlemen  did  not  leave  their 
place  to  walk  in  the  gallery;  but,  as  is  commonly  done  in 
the  theatre,  they  stood  up  with  their  back  to  the  stage,  con- 
sequently facing  M.  Dorlange,  who  sat  behind  them  and 
seemed  absorbed  in  the  evening's  news.  There  had  been  a 
very  uproarious  scene  in  the  Chamber — what  is  termed  a 
very  interesting  debate. — The  conversation  turned  very 
naturally  on  the  events  in  Paris  society  during  M.  de 
Ronquerolles'  absence,  and  he  happened  to  make  this  remark, 
which,  of  course,  attracted  M.  Dorlange's  attention: 

"And  that  poor  Madame  de  Macumer — what  a  sad  end, 
and  what  a  strange  marriage !" 

"Oh,  you  know,"  said  M.  de  Bhetore  in  the  high-pitched 
tone  he  affects,  "my  sister  had  too  much  imagination  not  to 
be  a  little  chimerical  and  romantic.  She  was  passionately  in 
love  with  M.  de  Macumer,  her  first  husband;  still,  one  may 
tire  of  all  things,  even  of  widowhood.  This  M.  Marie-Gaston 
came  in  her  way.  He  is  attractive  in  person;  my  sister  was 
rich,  he  very  much  in  debt;  he  was  proportionately  amiable 
and  attentive;  and,  on  my  honor,  the  rogue  managed  so 
cleverly,  that,  after  stepping  into  M.  de  Macumer's  shoes, 
and  making  his  wife  die  of  jealousy,  he  got  out  of  her  every- 
thing that  the  law  allowed  the  poor  silly  woman  to  dispose 
of. — Louise  left  a  fortune  of  at  least  twelve  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,  to  say  nothing  of  magnificent  furniture  and  a 
delightful  villa  she  had  built  at  Yille-d'Avray.  Half  of  this 
came  to  our  gentleman,  the  other  half  to  my  father  and 
mother,  the  Due  and  Duchesse  de  Chaulieu,  who,  as  parents, 
had  a  right  to  that  share.  As  to  my  brother  Lenoncourt  and 
me — we  were  simply  disinherited  for  our  portion." 

As  soon  as  your  name  was  pronounced,  my  dear  sir,  M. 
Dorlange  laid  down  his  paper ;  then,  as  M.  de  Rhetore  ceased 
speaking,  he  rose. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  M.  le  Due,  for  taking  the  liberty  of 
correcting  your  statements;  but,  as  a  matter  of  conscience, 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  123 

I  must  assure  you  that  you  are  to  the  last  degree  misin- 
formed." 

"You  say? "  replied  the  Duke,  half  closing  his  eyes, 

and  in  a  tone  of  contempt  which  you  can  easily  imagine. 

"I  say,  Monsieur  le  Due,  that  Marie-Gaston  has  been 
my  friend  from  childhood,  and  that  he  has  never  been  called 
a  rogue.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  a  man  of  honor  and  talent ; 
and  far  from  making  his  wife  die  of  jealousy,  he  made  her 
perfectly  happy  during  three  years  of  married  life.  As  to  her 
fortune " 

"You  have  considered  the  consequences  of  this  step?"  said 
the  Duke,  interrupting  him. 

"Certainly,  monsieur.  And  I  repeat  that,  with  regard 
to  the  fortune  left  to  Marie-Gaston  by  a  special  provision  in 
his  wife's  will,  he  coveted  it  so  little  that,  to  my  knowledge, 
he  is  about  to  devote  a  sum  of  two  or  three  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  to  the  erection  of  a  monument  to  the  wife  he  has 
never  ceased  to  mourn." 

"And,  after  all,  monsieur,  who  are  you?"  the  Due  de 
Ehetore  broke  in  again,  with  growing  irritation. 

"In  a  moment  I  shall  have  the  honor  to  inform  you," 
replied  M.  Dorlange.  "But,  first,  you  will  allow  me  to  add 
that  Madame  Marie-Gaston  could  have  no  pangs  of  conscience 
in  disposing  as  she  did  of  the  fortune  of  which  you  have  been 
deprived.  All  her  wealth,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  came  to  her 
from  M.  le  Baron  de  Macumer,  her  first  husband,  and  she 
had  previously  renounced  her  patrimony  to  secure,  an  adequate 
position  to  your  brother,  M.  le  Due  de  Lenoncourt-Giyry, 
who,  as  a  younger  son,  had  not,  like  yourself,  M.  le  Due,  the 
benefit  of  the  entail." 

M.  Dorlange  felt  in  his  pocket  for  his  card-case,  but  it 
was  not  there. 

"I  have  no  cards  about  me,"  he  said;  "but  my  name  is 
Dorlange — a  sort  of  stage-name,  and  easy  to  remember — 42 
Rue  de  1'Ouest." 

"Not  a  very  central  position,"  M.  de  Rhetore  remarked 
ironically. 


124  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

At  the  same  time  he  turned  to  M.  de  Ronquerolles,  and 
taking  him  as  a  witness  and  as  his  second : 

"I  must  apologize  to  you,  my  dear  fellow/'  said  he,  "for 
sending  you  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  to-morrow  morning." 
Then  he  added,  "Come  to  the  smoking-room;  we  can  talk 
there  in  peace,  and  at  any  rate  in  security." 

By  the  emphasis  he  laid  on  the  last  word,  it  was  im- 
possible to  misunderstand  the  innuendo  it  was  meant  to 
convey.  The  two  gentlemen  went  out,  without  the  scene  hav- 
ing given  rise  to  any  commotion  or  fuss,  since  the  stalls  all 
round  them  were  empty,  and  M.  Dorlange  then  caught  sight 
of  M.  Stidmann,  the  famous  sculptor,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
stalls.  He  went  up  to  him. 

"Do  you  happen  to  have,"  said  he,  "such  a  thing  as  a 
memorandum  or  sketch  book  in  your  pocket?" 

"Yes— always." 

"Then  would  you  lend  it  me  and  allow  me  to  tear  a  leaf 
out?  I  have  just  had  an  idea  that  I  do  not  want  to  lose. 
If  I  should  not  see  you  as  you  go  out,  to  return  the  book,  you 
shall  have  it  without  fail  to-morrow  morning." 

On  returning  to  his  seat,  M.  Dorlange  made  a  hasty  pencil 
sketch;  and  when  the  curtain  rose,  and  MM.  de  Rhetore  and 
de  Ronquerolles  came  back  to  their  places,  he  lightly  touched 
the  Duke  on  the  shoulder,  and  handing  him  the  drawing,  he 
said,  "My  card,  which  I  have  the  honor  of  giving  to  your 
grace." 

The  card  was  a  pretty  sketch  of  sculpturesque  architecture 
set. in  a  landscape.  Underneath  it  was  written:  "Sketch  for 
a  monument  to  be  erected  to  the  memory  of  Madame  Marie- 
Gaston,  nee  Chaulieu,  by  her  husband,  from  the  designs  of 
Charles  Dorlange,  sculptor,  Rue  de  1'Ouest,  42." 

He  could  have  found  no  more  ingenious  way  of  intimating 
to  M.  de  Rhetore  that  he  had  no  mean  adversary;  and  you 
may  observe,  my  dear  sir,  that  M.  Doriange  thus  gave  weight 
to  his  denial  by  giving  substance,  so  to  speak,  to  his  statement 
as  to  your  disinterestedness  and  conjugal  devotion  and  grief. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  125 

The  performance  ended  without  any  further  incident.  M. 
de  Rhetore  parted  from  M.  de  Ronquerolles. 

M.  de  Ronquerolles  then  addressed  M.  Dorlange,  very 
courteously  endeavoring  to  effect  a  reconciliation,  observing 
that  though  he  might  be  in  the  right,  his  conduct  was  un- 
conventional and  offensive,  that  M.  de  Rhetore  had  behaved 
with  great  moderation,  and  would  certainly  accept  the  very 
slightest  expression  of  regret — in  fact,  said  everything  that 
could  be  said  on  such  an  occasion.  M.  Dorlange  would  not 
hear  of  anything  approaching  an  apology,  and  on  the  follow- 
ing day  he  received  a  visit  from  M.  de  Ronquerolles  and 
General  de  Montriveau  as  representing  M.  de  Rhetore.  Again 
they  were  urgent  that  M.  Dorlange  should  consent  to  express 
himself  in  different  language.  But  your  friend  would  not  be 
moved  from  this  ultimatum. 

"Will  M.  de  Rhetore  withdraw  the  expressions  I  felt  myself 
bound  to  take  exception  to  ?  If  so,  I  will  retract  mine." 

"That  is  impossible,"  said  they.  "The  offence  was  personal 
to  M.  de  Rhetore,  to  you  it  was  not.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  he 
firmly  believes  that  M.  Marie-Gaston  did  him  an  injury. 
Allowance  must  always  be  made  for  damaged  interests;  per- 
fect justice  is  never  to  be  got  from  them." 

"So  that  M.  le  Due  may  continue  to  slander  my  friend 
at  his  pleasure !"  said  M.  Dorlange,  "since,  in  the  first  place, 
my  friend  is  in  Italy;  and  in  the  second,  he  would  always, 
if  possible,  avoid  coming  to  extreme  measures  with  his  wife's 
brother.  And,"  he  added,  "it  is  precisely  this  impossibility 
of  his  defending  himself  which  gives  me  a  right — nay  more, 
makes  it  my  duty  to  intervene.  It  was  by  a  special  grace  of 
Providence  that  I  was  enabled  to  catch  some  of  the  malignant 
reports  that  are  flying  about  on  the  wing;  and  since  M.  le 
Due  de  Rhetore  sees  no  reason  to  mitigate  his  language,  we 
will,  if  you  please,  carry  the  affair  through  to  the  end." 

The  dispute  being  reduced  to  these  terms,  the  duel  was 
inevitable,  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  the  seconds  on  both 
sides  arranged  the  conditions.  The  meeting  was  fixed  for  the 
next  morning;  the  weapons,  pistols.  On  the  ground,  M. 


126  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Dorlange  was  perfectly  cool.  After  exchanging  shots  without 
effect,  as  the  seconds  seemed  anxious  to  stop  the  proceed- 
ings— 

"Come,"  said  he  cheerfully,  "one  shot  more !"  as  if  he  were 
firing  at  a  dummy  in  a  shooting  gallery. 

This  time  he  was  wounded  in  the  fleshy  part  of  the  thigh, 
not  a  dangerous  wound,  but  one  which  bled  very  freely.  While 
he  was  being  carried  to  the  carriage  in  which  he  had  come, 
M.  de  Ehetore  was  anxiously  giving  every  assistance,  and 
when  he  was  close  to  him — "All  the  same,"  said  Dorlange, 

"Marie-Gaston  is  an  honest  gentleman,  a  heart  of  gold " 

and  he  fainted  away  almost  as  he  spoke. 

This  duel,  as  you  may  suppose,  my  dear  sir,  has  been  the 
talk  of  the  town;  I  have  only  had  to  keep  my  ears  open  to 
collect  any  amount  of  information  concerning  M.  Dorlange, 
for  he  is'the  lion  of  the  day,  and  all  yesterday  it  was  impos- 
sible to  go  into  a  house  where  he  was  not  the  subject  of  con- 
versation. My  harvest  was  chiefly  gathered  at  Mme.  de 
Montcornet's.  She,  as  you  know,  has  a  large  acquaintance 
among  artists  and  men  of  letters;  and  to  give  you  a  notion 
of  the  position  your  friend  holds  in  their  regard,  I  need  only 
report  a  conversation  in  which  I  took  part  last  evening  in  the 
Countess'  drawing-room.  The  speakers  were  M.  Emile  Blon- 
det,  of  the  Debats;  M.  Bixiou  the  caricaturist,  one  of  the  best 
informed  eavesdroppers  in  Paris — I  believe  you  know  them 
both,  but  at  any  rate  I  am  sure  that  you  are  intimate  with 
Joseph  Bridau,  our  great  painter,  who  was  the  third  speaker, 
for  I  remember  that  he  and  Daniel  d'Arthez  signed  for  you 
when  you  were  married. 

Bridau  was  speaking  when  I  joined  them. 

"Dorlange  began  splendidly,"  said  he.  "There  was  the 
touch  of  a  great  master  even  in  the  work  he  sent  in  for  com- 
petition, to  which,  under  the  pressure  of  opinion,  the  Acad- 
emy awarded  the  prize,  though  he  had  laughed  very  au- 
daciously at  their  programme." 

"Quite  true,"  said  M.  Bixiou.  "And  the  Pandora  he  exhib- 
ited in  1837,  on  his  return  from  Home,  was  also  a  very  strik- 


This  time  he  was  wounded 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  127 

ing  work.  But  as  it  won  him,  out  of  hand,  the  Legion  of 
Honor  and  commissions  from  the  Government  and  the  Mu- 
nicipality, with  at  least  thirty  flaming  notices  in  the  papers, 
I  doubt  if  he  can  ever  recover  from  that  success." 

"That  is  a  verdict  a  la  Bixiou,"  said  fimile  Blondet. 

"So  it  is,  and  with  good  reason.  Did  you  ever  see  the 
man?" 

"No,  he  is  seen  nowhere." 

"True,  that  is  his  favorite  haunt.  He  is  a  bear,  but  a  bear 
intentionally ;  out  of  affectation  and  deliberate  purpose." 

"I  really  cannot  see,"  said  Joseph  Bridau,  "that  such  a  dis- 
like to  society  is  a  bad  frame  of  mind  for  an  artist.  What  can 
a  sculptor,  especially,  gain  by  frequenting  drawing-rooms 
where  men  and  women  have  got  into  the  habit  of  wearing 
clothes?" 

"Well,  even  a  sculptor  may  get  some  amusement  which 
saves  him  from  monomania  or  brooding.  And  then  he  can 
see  how  the  world  wags — that  1839  is  neither  the  fifteenth 
nor  the  sixteenth  century." 

"What !"  said  Blondet,  "do  you  mean  the  poor  fellow  suffers 
from  that  delusion?" 

"He ! — he  talks  quite  glibly  of  living  the  life  of  the  artists 
of  mediaeval  times,  with  all  their  universal  studies  and  learn- 
ing, and  the  terrific  labors  which  he  can  conceive  of  in  a  society 
that  was  still  semi-barbarous,  but  that  has  no  place  in  ours. 
He  is  a  guileless  dreamer,  and  never  perceives  that  civiliza- 
tion, by  strangely  complicating  our  social  intercourse,  devotes 
to  business,  interest,  and  pleasure  thrice  as  much  time  as  a 
less  advanced  social  organization  would  spend  on  those  ob- 
jects. Look  at  the  savage  in  his  den  !  He  has  nothing  to  do ; 
but  we,  with  the  Bourse,  the  opera,  the  newspapers,  parlia- 
mentary debates,  drawing-room  meetings,  elections,  railways, 
the  Cafe  de  Paris,  and  the  National  Guard — when,  I  ask  you, 
are  we  to  find  time  for  work  ?" 

"A  splendid  theory  for  idlers,"  said  fimile  Blondet,  laugh- 
ing. 

"Not  at  all,  my  dear  boy ;  it  is  perfectly  true.    The  curfew 


128  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

no  longer  rings  at  nine  o'clock,  I  suppose !  Well,  and  only 
last  evening,  if  my  door-porter  Ravenouillet  didn't  give  a 
party!  Perhaps  I  committed  a  serious  blunder  by  declining 
the  indirect  invitation  he  sent  me." 

"Still,"  said  Joseph  Bridau,  "it  is  evident  that  a  man  who  is 
not  mixed  up  with  the  business  interests  or  pleasures  of  his 
age  may,  out  of  his  savings,  accumulate  a  very  pretty  capital  of 
time.  Dorlange,  I  fancy,  has  a  comfortable  income  irre- 
spective of  commissions :  there  is  nothing  to  hinder  him  from 
living  as  he  has  a  mind  to  live." 

"And,  as  you  see,  he  goes  to  the  opera,  since  it  was  there 
he  picked  up  his  duel. — And,  indeed,  you  have  hardly  hit 
the  nail  on  the  head  by  representing  him  as  cut  off  from  all 
contemporary  interests,  when  I  happen  to  know  that  he  is  on 
the  point  of  taking  them  up  on  the  most  stirring  and  absorb- 
ing side  of  the  social  machine — namely,  politics !" 

"What !  he  thinks  he  can  be  a  politician  ?"  asked-  fimile 
Blondet  scornfully. 

"It  is  part,  no  doubt,  of  his  famous  scheme  of  universal 
efficiency,  and  you  should  see  how  logically  and  perseveringly 
he  is  carrying  out  the  idea.  Last  year  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  francs  fell  on  him  from  the  sky,  and  my  man  pur- 
chased a  house  in  the  Eue  Saint-Martin  as  a  qualification; 
and  then,  as  another  little  speculation,  with  the  rest  of  the 
money  he  bought  shares  in  the  National  newspaper,  and  I 
find  him  in  the  office  whenever  I  am  in  the  mood  to  have  a 
laugh  at  the  Republican  Utopia.  There  he  has  his  flatterers ; 
they  have  persuaded  him  that  he  is  a  born  orator  and  will 
make  a  sensation  in  the  Chamber.  There  is,  in  fact,  a  talk 
of  working  up  a  constituency  to  nominate  him,  and  on  days 
when  they  are  very  enthusiastic  they  discover  that  he  is  like 
Danton." 

"Oh,  this  is  the  climax  of  burlesque !"  said  Emile  Blondet 

I  do  not  know,  my  dear  sir,  whether  you  have  ever  observed 
that  men  of  superior  talent  are  always  extremely  indulgent. 
This  was  now  proved  in  the  person  of  Joseph  Bridau. 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  he,  "that  if  Dorlange  starts  on  that 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  129 

track  he  is  almost  certainly  lost  to  art.  But,  after  all,  why 
should  he  not  be  a  success  in  the  Chamber?  He  speaks  with 
great  fluency,  and  seems  to  be  full  of  ideas.  Look  at  Canalis ; 
when  he  won  his  election :  'Faugh !  a  poet !'  said  one  and  an- 
other, which  has  not  prevented  his  making  himself  famous  as 
an  orator  and  being  made  Minister." 

"Well,  the  first  point  is  to  get  elected,"  said  fimile  Blondet. 
"What  place  does  Dorlange  think  of  standing  for?" 

"For  one  of  the  rotten  boroughs  of  the  National,  of  course," 
remarked  Bixiou.  "However,  I  do  not  know  that  the  place  is 
yet  decided  on." 

"As  a  general  rule,"  said  the  man  of  the  Debats,  "to  be  re- 
turned as  a  member,  even  with  the  hottest  support  of  your 
party,  requires  a  somewhat  extensive  political  notoriety,  or 
else,  at  least,  some  good  provincial  status  of  family  or  of 
fortune.  Does  any  one  know  whether  Dorlange  can  command 
these  elements  of  success  ?" 

"As  to  family  status,  that  would  be  a  particular  difficulty 
with  him ;  his  family  is  non-existent  to  a  desperate  extent." 

"Indeed,"  said  Blondet.    "Then  he  is  a  natural  son?" 

"As  natural  as  may  be — father  and  mother  alike  unknown. 
But  I  can  quite  imagine  his  being  elected ;  it  is  the  rank  and 
file  of  his  political  notions  that  will  be  so  truly  funny." 

"He  must  be  a  Eepublican  if  he  is  a  friend  of  the  gentlemen 
on  the  National,  and  has  a  likeness  to  Danton." 

"Evidently.  But  he  holds  his  fellow-believers  in  utter  con- 
tempt, and  says  that  they  are  good  for  nothing  but  fighting, 
rough  play  and  big  talk.  So  provisionally  he  will  put  up  with 
a  monarchy  bolstered  up  by  republican  institutions — though 
he  asserts  that  this  citizen-kingship  must  infallibly  be  under- 
mined by  the  abuse  of  private  interest  which  he  calls  corrup- 
tion. This  would  tempt  him  to  join  the  little  Church  of  the 
Left  Centre;  but  there  again — there  is  always  a  but — he  can 
discern  nothing  but  a  coalition  of  ambitious  and  emasculated 
men,  unconsciously  smoothing  the  way  to  a  revolution  which 
he  sees  already  on  the  horizon ;  to  his  great  regret,  because  in 
his  opinion  the  masses  are  neither  sufficiently  prepared  nor 


130  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

sufficiently  intelligent  to  keep  it  from  slipping  through  their 
fingers. 

"As  to  Legitimism,  he  laughs  at  it;  he  will  not  accept  it 
as  a  principle  under  any  aspect.  He  regards  it  simply  as  a 
more  definite  and  time-honored  form  of  hereditary  monarchy, 
allows  it  no  other  superiority  than  that  of  old  wine  over  new. 
And  while  he  is  neither  Legitimist,  nor  Conservative,  nor  Left 
Centre,  but  a  republican  who  deprecates  a  republic,  he  stoutly 
sets  up  for  being  a  Catholic  and  rides  the  hobby  of  that  party 
— freedom  in  teaching ;  and  yet  this  man,  who  wants  freedom 
in  teaching,  is,  on  the  other  hand,  afraid  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
still  talks,  as  if  we  were  in  1829,  of  the  encroachments  of  the 
priestly  party  and  the  Congregation. 

"And  can  you  imagine,  finally,  the  great  party  he  proposes 
to  form  in  the  Chamber — himself,  of  course,  its  leader? 
That  of  justice,  impartiality,  and  honesty :  as  if  anything  of 
the  kind  were  to  be  found  in  the  parliamentary  pottage  or  as 
if  every  shade  of  opinion  had  not  from  time  immemorial  flour- 
ished that  flag  to  conceal  its  ugly  emptiness?" 

"So  that  he  gives  up  sculpture  once  and  for  all?"  said 
Joseph  Bridau. 

"Not  immediately.  He  is  just  finishing  a  statue  of  some 
female  Saint,  but  he  will  not  let  anybody  see  it,  and  does  not 
mean  to  exhibit  it  this  year.  He  has  notions  of  his  own  about 
that  too." 

"Which  are ?"  asked  Emile  Blondet. 

"That  religious  works  ought  not  to  be  displayed  to  the 
judgment  of  criticism  and  the  gaze  of  a  public  cankered  by 
scepticism;  that,  without  confronting  the  turmoil  of  the 
world,  they  ought  modestly  and  piously  to  take  the  place  for 
which  they  were  intended." 

"Bless  me !"  exclaimed  Blondet.  "And  such  a  fervent 
Catholic  could  fight  a  duel?" 

"Oh,  there  is  a  better  joke  than  that.  Catholic  as  he  is, 
he  lives  with  a  woman  he  brought  over  from  Italy,  a  sort  of 
goddess  of  Liberty,  who  is  at  the  same  time  his  model  and  his 
housekeeper." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  131 

"What  a  gossip — what  a  regular  inquiry  office  that  Bixiou 
is !"  they  said,  as  they  divided. 

They  had  just  been  asked  by  Madame  de  Montcornet  to 
accept  a  cup  of  tea  from  her  fair  hands. 

As  you  see,  my  dear  sir,  M.  Dorlange's  political  aspirations 
are  not  regarded  very  seriously,  most  people  thinking  of  them 
very  much  as  I  do  myself.  I  cannot  doubt  that  you  will 
write  to  him  at  once  to  thank  him  for  his  zealous  intervention 
to  defend  you  against  calumny.  His  brave  devotion  has,  in 
fact,  filled  me  with  sympathy  for  him,  and  I  should  be  really 
glad  to  see  you  making  use  of  your  old  friendship  for  him  to 
hinder  him  from  embarking  on  the  thankless  track  he  is  so 
eager  to  tread.  I  am  not  guided  by  the  thought  of  the  draw- 
backs attributed  to  him  by  M.  Bixiou,  who  has  a  sharp  and 
too  ready  tongue;  like  Joseph  Bridau,  I  think  little  of  them; 
but  a  mistake  that  every  one  must  regret,  in  my  opinion, 
would  be  to  abandon  a  career  in  which  he  has  already  won  a 
high  position,  to  rush  into  the  political  fray.  Sermonize  him 
to  this  effect,  and  as  much  as  you  can,  to  induce  him  to  stick 
to  Art.  Indeed,  you  yourself  are  interested  in  his  doing  so  if 
you  are  still  bent  on  his  undertaking  the  work  he  has  so  far 
refused  to  accept. 

In  the  matter  of  the  personal  explanation  I  advised  you  to 
have  with  him,  I  may  tell  you  that  your  task  is  greatly  facili- 
tated. You  are  not  called  upon  to  enter  into  any  of  the 
details  that  might  perhaps  be  too  painful.  Mme.  de  1'Es- 
torade,  to  whom  I  have  spoken  of  the  mediator's  part  I  pro- 
posed that  she  should  play,  accepts  it  with  pleasure,  and  un- 
dertakes in  half  an  hour's  conversation  to  dissipate  the  clouds 
that  may  still  hang  between  you  and  your  friend. 

While  writing  you  this  long  letter,  I  sent  to  inquire  for 
him :  the  report  is  as  good  as  possible,  and  the  surgeons  are 
not  in  the  least  uneasy  about  him,  unless  some  extraordinary 
and  quite  unforeseen  complications  should  supervene.  He  is, 
it  would  seem,  an  object  of  general  interest;  for,  according 
to  my  servant,  people  are  standing  in  rows  waiting  to  put 
their  names  down. 


132 

There  is  this  also  to  be  said — M.  de  Khetore  is  not  liked. 
He  is  haughty,  starch,  and  not  clever.  How  different  from 
her  who  dwells  in  our  dearest  memory !  She  was  simple  and 
kind,  without  ever  losing  her  dignity,  and  nothing  could  com- 
pare with  the  amiability  of  her  temper,  unless  it  were  the 
brightness  of  her  wit. 

The  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PARIS,  February  1839. 

Nothing  could  be  better  than  all  you  have  written,  dear 
madame:  it  was,  in  fact,  highly  probable  that  this  annoying 
person  would  not  think  twice  about  speaking  to  me  the  next 
time  we  should  meet.  His  heroism  gave  him  a  right  to  do  so, 
and  the  most  ordinary  politeness  made  it  incumbent  on  him. 
Unless  he  were  content  to  pass  for  the  clumsiest  of  admirers, 
he  could  not  help  asking  me  how  Na'is  and  I  had  recovered 
from  the  effects  of  the  accident  he  had  been  able  to  forefend. 
But  if,  contrary  to  all  expectations,  he  should  persist  in  not 
stepping  out  of  his  cloud,  I  was  fully  determined  to  act  on 
your  wise  advice.  If  the  mountain  did  not  come  to  me,  I 
would  go  to  the  mountain.  Like  Hippolyte  in  Theramene's 
tale,  I  would  "thrust  myself  on  the  monster"  and  fire  my  grati- 
tude in  his  teeth.  Like  you,  my  dear  friend,  I  quite  under- 
stood that  the  real  danger  of  this  persecution  lay  in  its  con- 
tinuance, and  the  inevitable  explosion  that  threatened  me 
sooner  or  later;  the  fact  that  the  servants,  or  the  children, 
might  at  any  moment  detect  the  secret;  that  I  should  be  ex- 
posed to  the  most  odious  inferences  if  it  were  suspected  by 
others ;  and,  above  all,  the  idea  that  if  this  ridiculous  mystery 
should  be  discovered  by  M.  de  I'Estorade  and  drive  him  to 
such  lengths  as  his  southern  nature  and  past  experience  in 
the  army  made  me  imagine  only  too  easily, — all  this  had 
spurred  me  to  a  point  I  cannot  describe,  and  I  might  have 
gone  further  even  than  you  advised. — I  had  not  only  recog- 
nized the  necessity  for  being  the  first  to  speak ;  but  under  the 
pretext  that  my  husband  would  call  to  thank  him  under  his 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  133 

own  roof,  I  meant  to  compel  him  to  give  me  his  name  and  ad- 
dress, and,  supposing  he  \vere  at  all  a  possible  acquaintance,  to 
invite  him  forthwith  to  dinner,  and  thus  entice  the  wolf  into 
the  sheepfold. 

For,  after  all,  what  danger  could  there  be  ?  If  he  had  but  a 
shade  of  common-sense  when  he  saw  the  terms  I  live  on  with 
M.  de  1'Estorade,  and  my  maniacal  passion  for  my  children, 
as  you  call  it,  in  short,  the  calm  regularity  of  my  home-life, 
would  he  not  understand  how  vain  was  his  pursuit?  At  any 
rate,  whether  he  should  persist  or  no,  his  vehemence  would 
have  lost  its  perilous  out-of-door  character.  If  I  was  to  be 
persecuted,  it  would,  at  any  rate,  be  under  my  own  roof,  and 
I  should  only  have  to  deal  with  one  of  those  common  adven- 
tures to  which  every  woman  is  more  or  less  liable.  And  we 
can  always  get  over  such  slippery  places  with  perfect  credit, 
so  long  as  we  have  a  real  sense  of  duty  and  some  little  presence 
of  mind. 

Not,  I  must  tell  you,  that  I  have  come  to  this  conclusion 
without  a  painful  effort.  When  the  critical  moment  should 
come,  I  was  not  at  all  sure  that  I  should  be  cool  enough  to 
confront  the  situation  with  such  a  high  hand  as  was  indis- 
pensable. However,  I  had  fully  made  up  my  mind;  and — 
you  know  me — what  I  have  determined  on  I  do. 

Well,  my  dear  madame,  all  this  fine  scheme,  all  my  elabo- 
rate courage,  and  your  not  less  elaborate  foresight,  are  en- 
tirely wasted.  Since  your  last  letter  the  doctor  has  let  me  out 
of  his  hands.  I  have  been  out  several  times,  always  majestic- 
ally surrounded  by  my  children,  that  their  presence,  in  case 
I  should  be  obliged  to  take  the  initiative,  might  screen  the 
crudity  of  such  a  proceeding.  But  in  vain  have  I  scanned  the 
horizon  on  all  sides  out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye,  nothing,  ab- 
solutely nothing,  has  been  visible  that  bore  the  least  resem- 
blance to  a  deliverer  or  a  lover.  What,  now,  do  you  say  to 
this  new  state  of  affairs?  A  minute  since  I  spoke  of  thrusting 
myself  on  the  monster.  Was  this  gentleman  bent  on  giving 
himself  the  airs  of  a  monster,  and  of  the  most  dangerous 
species  ?  How  was  I  to  interpret  this  absence  ?  Had  he,  with 


184  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

admirable  perspicacity,  scented  the  snare  in  which  we  meant 
to  trap  him,  and  was  he  prudently  keeping  out  of  the  way? 
Or  was  there  some  deeper  motive  still?  Did  this  man,  in 
whom  I  had  failed  to  discern  the  smallest  sign  of  elegance, 
carry  refinement  and  delicacy  so  far  as  to  sacrifice  his  fancy 
to  his  fear  of  marring  a  generous  action? 

But  if  this  were  so,  he  would  be  really  a  man  to  think  seri- 
ously about ;  my  dear  M.  de  FEstorade,  you  must  take  care 
of  yourself !  For,  do  you  know,  the  attentions  of  a  man  of 
such  noble  sentiments  might  prove  to  be  more  dangerous  than 
was  apparent  at  a  first  glance? 

You  see,  my  dear  friend,  I  am  trying  to  take  the  matter 
lightly,  but  in  my  heart  of  hearts  I  believe  that  I  sing  to 
keep  my  courage  up.  This  skilful  and  unexpected  strategy 
leaves  me  wondering;  and  my  wonderment  brings  me  back 
to  some  other  ideas  which  at  first  I  dismissed  from  my  mind ; 
now,  however,  I  must  trouble  you  with  them,  as  the  end  of  this 
little  annoyance  is  beyond  my  ken. 

As  to  my  feeling  for  the  man,  you  will  not  misunderstand 
that.  He  saved  my  little  girl,  it  is  true,  but  merely  to  lay  me 
under  an  obligation.  Meanwhile  he  has  upset  my  pleasantest 
habits:  I  am  obliged  to  send  the  poor  children  out  without 
me;  I  cannot  go  to  church  as  often  as  I  please,  since  even 
before  the  altar  he  dares  to  come  between  me  and  God;  in 
fact,  he  has  upset  that  perfect  equanimity  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing which  till  now  has  been  the  joy  and  the  pride  of  my  life. 
But  though  this  persecution  is  odious  and  intolerable,  the 
man  has  a  sort  of  magnetic  power  over  me  that  distresses  me 
greatly.  I  can  feel  him  near  me  before  I  see  him.  His  gaze 
oppresses  me  without  my  meeting  his  eye.  He  is  ugly;  but 
there  is  something  vigorous  and  strongly  marked  about  him 
which  leaves  an  impression  on  the  mind ;  one  fancies  that  he 
must  have  some  powerful  and  dominating  characteristics. 
So,  do  what  I  will,  I  cannot  hinder  his  occupying  my  mind. 
Now,  I  feel  as  if  I  had  got  rid  of  him  altogether. — Well,  may 
I  say  it?  I  am  conscious  of  a  void.  I  miss  him  as  the  ear 


THE  .MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  135 

misses  a  sharp  and  piercing  sound  that  has  annoyed  it  for 
a  long  time. 

What  I  am  going  to  add  will  strike  you  as  very  childish, 
fcut  can  we  control  the  mirage  of  our  fancy? — I  have  often 
told  you  of  my  discussions  with  Louise  de  Chaulieu  as  to  the 
way  in  which  women  should  deal  with  life..  For  my  part, 
I  always  told  her  that  the  frenzy  with  which  she  never  ceased 
to  seek  the  Infinite  was  quite  ill  regulated,  and  fatal  to  happi- 
ness. And  she  would  answer:  "You,  my  dearest,  have  never 
loved.  Love  implies  a  phenomenon  so  rare,  that  we  may  live 
all  our  life  without  meeting  the  being  on  whom  nature  has 
bestowed  the  faculty  of  giving  us  happiness.  If  on  some 
glorious  day  that  being  appears  to  wake  your  heart  from  its 
slumbers,  you  will  take  quite  another  tone." 

The  words  of  those  doomed  to  die  are  so  often  prophetic ! 
Supposing  this  man  should  be  the  serpent,  though  late,  that 
Louise  seemed  to  threaten  me  with ;  good  Heavens !  That  he 
should  ever  represent  a  real  danger,  that  he  should  ever  be 
able  to  tempt  me  from  my  duty,  there  is  certainly  no  fear. 
I  am  confidently  strong  as  to  any  such  extreme  of  ill.  But  I 
did  not — like  you,  my  dear  friend — marry  a  man  who  was  the 
choice  of  my  heart.  It  was  only  by  dint  of  patience,  deter- 
mination, and  sense  that  I  built  up  the  austere  but  solid  at- 
tachment that  binds  me  to  M.  de  1'Estorade.  Hence  I  cannot 
but  be  terrified  at  the  mere  idea  of  anything  that  might  un- 
dermine that  feeling ;  and  the  constant  occupation  of  my  mind 
by  another  man,  even  in  the  form  of  detestation,  must  be  a  real 
misery  to  me. 

I  say  to  you,  as  MONSIEUR,  Louis  XIV.'s  brother,  said  to 
his  wife  when  he  brought  her  papers  he  had  just  written,  for 
her  to  decipher  them :  "See  clearly  for  me,  dear  madame, 
read  my  heart  and  brain  ;  disperse  the  mists,  allay  the  antago- 
nistic impulses,  the  ebb  and  flow  of  will  which  these  events 
have  given  rise  to  in  my  mind."  Was  not  my  dear  Louise 
mistaken?  Am  I  not  one  of  those  women  on  whom  love,  in 
her  sense,  has  no  hold?  The  "Being  who  on  some  glorious 
day  awoke  my  heart  from  its  slumbers"  was  my  Armand — my 


136  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Rene — my  Nais,  three  angels  for  whom  and  in  whom  I  have 
hitherto  lived;  and  for  me,  I  feel,  there  can  never  be  any 
other  passion. 

The  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PARIS,  March  1839. 

In  about  the  year  1820,  two  new  boys,  to  use  my  son  Ar- 
mand's  technical  slang,  joined  the  school  at  Tours  in  the  same 
week.  One  had  a  charming  face ;  the  other  might  have  been 
called  ugly,  but  that  health,  honesty,  and  intelligence  beamed 
in  his  features  and  made  up  for  their  homeliness  and  irregu- 
larity.— And  here  you  will  stop  me,  dear  madame,  asking  me 
whether  I  have  quite  got  over  my  absorbing  idea,  that  I  am 
in  the  mood  to  write  you  a  chapter  of  a  novel  ?  Not  at  all, 
and  this  strange  beginning,  little  as  it  may  seem  so,  is  only  the 
continuation  and  sequel  of  my  adventure.  So  I  beg  you  to 
listen  to  my  tale  and  not  to  interrupt.  To  proceed.  Almost 
from  the  first,  the  two  boys  formed  a  close  friendship;  there 
was  more  than  one  reason  for  their  intimacy.  One  of  them — 
the  handsome  lad — was  dreamy,  thoughtful,  even  a  little  sen- 
timental; the  other  eager,  impetuous,  always  burning  for 
action.  Thus  their  two  characters  supplemented  each  other — 
the  best  possible  combination  for  an}7  union  that  is  to  prove 
lasting.  Both,  too,  had  the  same  stain  on  their  birth.  The 
dreamy  boy  was  the  son  of  the  notorious  Lady  Brandon,  born 
in  adultery;  he  was  known  as  Marie-Gaston,  which  can  hardly 
be  called  a  name.  The  other,  whose  father  and  mother  were 
both  unknown,  was  called  Dorlange — which  is  not  a  name  at 
all. — Dorlange,  Valmon,  Yolmar,  Derfeuil,  Melcourt,  these 
are  all  names  adopted  for  the  stage,  and  that  only  in  the  old- 
fashioned  plays,  where  they  dwell  now  in  company  with 
Arnolphe,  Alceste,  Clitandre,  Damis,  firaste,  Philinte,  and 
Arsinoe.  So  another  reason  why  these  unhappy  no-man's- 
sons  should  cling  together  for  warmth  was  the  cruel  desertion 
they  both  suffered  from.  During  the  seven  mortal  years  of 
their  life  at  school,  not  once  for  a  single  day,  even  in  holiday 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  137 

time,  did  the  prison  doors  open  to  let  them  out.  At  long 
intervals  Marie-Gaston  had  a  visitor  in  the  person  of  an  old 
nurse  who  had  served  his  mother.  Through  this  woman's 
hands  came  the  quarterly  payment  for  his  schooling. 

The  money  paid  for  Dorlange  came  with  perfect  regularity 
from  some  unknown  source  through  a  banker  at  Tours.  One 
thing  was  observed — that  this  youth's  weekly  allowance  was 
fixed  at  the  highest  sum  permitted  by  the  college  rules,  whence 
it  was  concluded  that  his  anonymous  parents  were  rich.  Owing 
to  this,  but  yet  more  to  the  generous  use  he  made  of  his  money, 
Dorlange  enjoyed  a  certain  degree  of  consideration  among 
his  companions,  though  he  could  in  any  case  have  commanded 
it  by  the  prowess  of  his  fist.  At  the  same  time,  it  was  re- 
marked, but  not  loud  enough  for  him  to  hear,  that  no  one 
had  ever  asked  to  see  him  in  the  parlor,  nor  had  anybody 
outside  the  house  ever  taken  the  smallest  interest  in  him. 

These  two  boys,  both  destined  to  fame,  were  far  from  brill- 
iant scholars.  Though  they  were  neither  refractory  nor  idle, 
since  they  did  not  know  any  mother  to  be  happy  in  their 
success,  what  could  they  care  for  rewards  at  the  end  of  the 
year? 

And  they  worked,  each  after  his  own  fashion.  At  the  age  of 
fifteen,  Marie-Gaston  had  produced  a  volume  of  verse :  satires, 
elegies,  meditations,  to  say  nothing  of  two  tragedies.  As  for 
Dorlange,  his  studies  led  him  to  steal  firelogs;  out  of  these, 
with  his  knife,  he  carved  virgins,  grotesques,  schoolmasters 
and  saints,  grenadiers,  and — in  secret — figures  of  Napoleon. 

In  1827  their  school  days  ended;  the  friends  left  the  Col- 
lege de  Tours  together,  and  both  were  sent  to  Paris.  A  place 
had  already  been  secured  for  Dorlange  in  Bosio's  studio,  and 
thenceforward  a  certain  amount  of  caprice  was  discernible  in 
the  occult  Providence  that  watched  over  him.  On  arriving  at 
the  house  to  which  the  master  of  the  college  had  directed  him 
on  leaving,  he  found  pleasant  rooms  prettily  furnished  for 
him.  Under  the  glass  shade  over  the  clock  a  large  letter,  ad- 
dressed to  him,  had  been  so  placed  as  to  strike  his  eye  at  once. 
Within  the  envelope  he  found  a  note  in  these  words : 


138  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"The  day  after  your  arrival  in  Paris,  go,  at  eight  in  the 
morning  precisely,  to  the  Garden  of  the  Luxembourg,  Allee 
de  FObservatoire,  the  fourth  bench  on  the  right-hand  side 
from  the  gate.  This  is  imperative.  Do  not  on  any  account 
fail." 

Dorlange  was  punctual,  as  may  be  supposed,  and  had  not 
waited  long  when  he  was  joined  by  a  little  man,  two  feet  high, 
who,  with  his  enormous  head  and  thick  mop  of  hair, 
his  hooked  nose  and  chin  and  crooked  legs,  might  have  stepped 
out  of  one  of  Hoffmann's  fairy  tales.  Without  a  word — for 
to  his  personal  advantages,  this  messenger  added  that  of  being 
deaf  and  dumb — he  placed  in  the  youth's  hands  a  letter  and  a 
purse.  The  letter  said  that  Dorlange's  family  were  much 
pleased  to  find  that  he  had  a  disposition  for  the  fine  arts. 
He  was  urged  to  work  hard  and  profit  by  the  teaching  of  the 
great  master  under  whose  tuition  he  was  placed.  He  would, 
it  was  hoped,  be  steady,  and  an  eye  would  be  kept  on  his  be- 
havior. On  the  other  hand,  he  was  not  to  forego  the  rational 
amusements  suited  to  his  age.  For  his  needs  and  his  pleasures 
he  might  count  on  a  sum  of  twenty-five  louis,  which  would  be 
paid  to  him  every  three  months  at  this  same  place,  by  the  same 
messenger.  With  regard  to  this  emissary,  Dorlange  was  ex- 
pressly forbidden  to  follow  him  when  he  departed  after  ful- 
filling his  errand.  In  case  of  disobedience,  either  direct  or 
indirect,  the  penalty  was  serious — no  less,  in  fact,  than  the 
withdrawal  of  all  assistance,  and  complete  desertion. 

Now,  my  dear  friend,  do  you  remember  that  in  1831  I  car- 
ried you  off  to  the  ficole  des  Beaux- Arts,  where,  at  that  time, 
the  exhibition  used  to  be  held  of  works  competing  for  the  first 
prize  in  sculpture?  The  subject  set  for  the  competition  had 
appealed  to  my  heart — Niobe  weeping  over  her  children.  And 
do  you  remember  my  fury  at  the  work  sent  in  by  one  of  the 
competitors,  round  which  there  was  a  crowd  so  dense  that 
we  could  scarcely  get  near  it  ?  The  insolent  wretch  had  made 
game  of  the  subject.  His  Niobe,  indeed,  as  I  could  not  but 
agree  with  you  and  the  public,  was  most  touching  in  her 
beauty  and  grief;  but  to  have  represented  her  children  as  so 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  139 

many  monkeys,  lying  on  the  ground  in  the  most  various  and 
grotesque  attitudes — what  a  deplorable  waste  of  talent !  It 
was  in  vain  that  you  insisted  in  pointing  out  how  charming 
the  monkeys  were — graceful,  witty — and  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  laugh  more  ingeniously  at  the  blindness  and  idolatry 
of  mothers  who  regard  some  hideous  brat  as  a  masterpiece 
of  Nature's  handiwork.  I  considered  the  thing  a  monstrosity ; 
and  the  indignation  of  the  older  academicians,  who  demanded 
the  solemn  erasure  of  this  impertinent  work  from  the  list  of 
competing  sculpture,  was,  in  my  opinion,  wholly  justified. 
Yielding,  however,  to  public  opinion  and  to  the  papers,  which 
spoke  of -raising  a  subscription  to  send  the  sculptor  to  Home 
if  the  Grand  Prix  were  given  to  anybody  else,  the  Academy 
did  not  agree  with  me  and  with  its  elders.  The  remarkable 
beauty  of  the  Niobe  outweighed  all  else,  and  this  slanderer 
of  mothers  found  his  work  crowned,  though  he  had  to  take 
a  pretty  severe  lecture  which  the  secretary  was  desired  to 
give  him  on  the  occasion.  Unhappy  youth !  I  can  pity  him 
now,  for  he  never  had  known  a  mother. — He  was  Dorlange, 
the  youth  abandoned  at  the  school  at  Tours,  and  Marie- 
Gaston's  friend. 

For  four  years,  from  1827  till  1831,  when  Dorlange  was 
sent  to  Eome,  the  two  young  men  had  never  parted.  Dor- 
lange, with  his  allowance  of  two  thousand  four  hundred 
francs,  always  punctually  paid  by  the  hand  of  the  mysterious 
dwarf,  was  a  sort  of  Marquis  d'Aligre.  Marie-Gaston,  on  the 
contrary,  if  left  to  his  own  resources,  would  have  lived  in 
great  penury;  but  between  persons  who  truly  care  for  each 
other,  a  rarer  case  than  is  commonly  supposed,  on  one  side 
plenty,  and  on  the  other  nothing,  is  a  determining  cause  of 
their  alliance.  Without  keeping  any  score,  our  two  pigeons 
had  everything  in  common — home,  money,  troubles,  pleasures, 
and  hopes;  the  two  lived  but  one  life.  Unfortunately  for 
Marie-Gaston,  his  efforts  were  not,  like  his  friend's,  crowned 
with  success.  His  volume  of  verse,  carefully  recast  and  re- 
vised, with  other  poems  from  his  pen  and  two  or  three  dramas, 
all,  for  lack  of  goodwill  on  the  part  of  stage-managers  and 


140  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

publishers,  remained  in  obscurity.  At  last  the  firm  of  two, 
by  Dorlange's  insistency,  took  strong  measures:  by  dint  of 
strict  economy,  the  needful  sum  was  saved  to  print  and  bring 
out  a  volume.  The  title — Snowdrops — was  attractive;  the 
binding  was  pearl-gray,  the  margins  broad,  and  there  was  a 
pretty  title-page  designed  by  Dorlange.  But  the  public  was 
as  indifferent  as  the  publishers  and  managers — it  would 
neither  buy  nor  read ;  so  much  so,  that  one  day  when  the  rent 
was  due,  Marie-Gaston,  in  a  fit  of  despair,  sent  for  the  old- 
book  buyer,  and  sold  him  the  whole  edition  for  three  sous  a 
volume,  whence  a  perfect  crop  of  Snowdrops  was  ere  long  to  be 
seen  on  every  stall  along  the  quays  from  the  Pont  Koyal  to  the 
Pont  Marie. 

This  wound  was  still  bleeding  in  the  poet's  soul  when  it  be- 
came necessary  for  Dorlange  to  set  out  for  Rome.  Life  in 
common  was  no  longer  possible.  Being  informed  by  the 
mysterious  dwarf  that  his  allowance  would  be  paid  to  him  as 
usual  in  Rome,  through  Torlonia's  bank,  it  occurred  to  Dor- 
lange to  offer  Marie-Gaston  the  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year 
granted  him  on  the  Royal  scholarship  for  the  five  years  while 
he  should  remain  in  Rome.  But  a  heart  noble  enough  to  re- 
ceive a  favor  is  rarer  even  than  that  which  can  bestow  one. 
Marie-Gaston,  embittered  by  constant  reverses,  had  not  the 
necessary  courage  to  meet  this  sacrifice  half-way.  The  disso- 
lution of  partnership  too  plainly  exposed  the  position  of  a 
dependent  which  he  had  hitherto  accepted.  Some  trifling 
work  placed  in  his  hands  by  the  great  writer  Daniel  d'Arthez 
added  to  his  little  income  would,  he  said,  be  enough  to  live 
on,  and  he  peremptorily  refused  what  his  pride  stigmatized 
as  charity. 

This  misplaced  pride  led  to  a  coolness  between  the  friends. 
Their  intimacy  was  kept  alive  till  1833  by  a  fairly  brisk  cor- 
respondence, but  on  Marie-Gaston's  part  there  was  a  diminu- 
tion of  confidence  and  freedom.  He  was  evidently  hiding 
something.  His  haughty  determination  to  be  self-sufficing 
had  led  to  bitter  disappointment.  His  poverty  increased  day 
by  day ;  and,  prompted  by  inexorable  necessity,  he  had  drifted 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  141 

into  a  most  painful  position.  He  had  tried  to  release  himself 
from  the  constant  pinch  of  want,  which  paralyzed  his  flight, 
by  staking  everything  for  all  or  nothing.  He  imprudently 
mixed  himself  up  in  the  concerns  of  a  newspaper,  and  then, 
to  obtain  a  ruling  voice,  took  upon  himself  almost  all  the 
expenses  of  the  undertaking.  Thus  led  into  debt  for  a  sum 
of  not  less  than  thirty  thousand  francs,  he  saw  nothing  before 
him  but  a  debtor's  prison  opening  its  broad  jaws  to  devour 
him. 

At  this  juncture  he  met  Louise  de  Chaulieu.  For  nine 
months,  the  blossoming  time  of  their  marriage,  Marie-Gas- 
ton's  letters  were  few  and  far  between,  and  those  he  wrote 
were  high  treason  to  friendship.  Dorlange  ought  to  have 
been  the  first  person  told,  and  he  was  told  nothing.  That  most 
high  and  mighty  dame,  Louise  de  Chaulieu,  Baronne  de 
Macumer,  would  have  it  so.  When  the  day  of  the  marriage 
arrived,  her  passion  for  secrecy  had  reached  a  pitch  bordering 
on  mania.  I,  her  closest  friend,  was  scarcely  allowed  to  know 
it,  and  no  one  was  admitted  to  the  ceremony.  To  comply 
with  the  requirements  of  the  law,  witnesses  were  indispen- 
sable ;  but  at  the  time  when  Marie-Gaston  invited  two  friends 
to  do  him  this  service,  he  announced  that  their  relations  must 
be  finally  but  amiably  put  an  end  to.  His  feelings  towards 
everybody  but  his  wife,  whom  he  exalted  to  a  pure  abstraction, 
"would  be,"  he  wrote  to  Daniel  d'Arthez,  "friendship  inde- 
pendent of  the  friend." 

As  for  Louise,  she,  I  believe,  for  greater  security,  would 
have  had  the  witnesses  murdered  on  leaving  the  Mairie,  but 
for  a  wholesome  fear  of  the  public  prosecutor ! 

Dorlange  was  still  away,  a  happy  excuse  for  telling  him 
nothing.  Buried  in  a  Trappist  monastery,  Marie-Gaston 
could  not  have  been  more  lost  to  him.  By  dint  of  writing  to 
other  friends  and  asking  for  information,  Dorlange  at  last 
found  out  that  Marie-Gaston  no  longer  trod  this  lower  earth ; 
that,  like  Tithonus,  he  had  been  translated  by  a  jealous 
divinity  to  a  rural  Olympus,  which  she  had  constructed  on 
purpose  in  the  heart  of  the  woods  of  Ville-d'Avray. 


142  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

In  1836,  when  the  sculptor  came  back  from  Kome,  the 
sequestration  of  Marie-Gaston  was  closer  and  more  unrelaxing 
than  ever.  Dorlange  had  too  much  spirit  to  steal  or  force  his 
way  into  the  sanctuary  where  Louise  had  sheltered  her  crazy 
passion,  and  Marie-Gaston  was  too  desperately  in  love  to 
break  the  spell  and  escape  from  Armida's  garden.  The 
friends,  incredible  as  it  must  seem,  never  met,  nor  even  ex- 
changed notes.  Still,  on  hearing  of  Madame  Marie-Gaston's 
death,  Dorlange  forgot  every  slight  and  rushed  off  to  Ville- 
d'Avray  to  offer  what  consolation  he  might.  Vain  devotion. 
Within  two  hours  of  the  melancholy  ceremony,  Marie-Gaston 
was  in  a  post-chaise  flying  south  to  Italy,  with  no  thought 
for  his  friend,  or  a  sister-in-law  and  two  nephews,  who  were 
dependent  on  him.  Dorlange  thought  this  selfishness  of  grief 
rather  too  much  to  be  borne ;  and  he  eradicated  from  his  heart, 
as  he  believed,  the  last  remembrance  of  a  friendship  which 
even  the  breath  of  sorrow  had  not  revived. 

My  husband  and  I  had  loved  Louise  de  Chaulieu  too  sin- 
cerely not  to  retain  some  feeling  of  affection  for  the  man  who, 
for  three  years,  had  been  all  in  all  to  her.  When  leaving, 
Marie-Gaston  had  requested  M.  de  1'Estorade  to  take  entire 
charge  of  all  his  business  matters,  and  he  sent  him  a  power  of 
attorney  to  act  for  him  in  all  particulars. 

A  few  weeks  since,  his  sorrow,  still  living  and  acute,  sug- 
gested an  idea  to  his  mind.  In  the  middle  of  the  park  at 
Ville-d'Avray  there  is  a  small  lake,  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
lake  an  island  which  Louise  was  very  fond  of.  To  this  island, 
a  calm  and  shady  retreat,  Marie-Gaston  wished  to  transfer  his 
wife's  remains,  and  he  wrote  us  from  Carrara  to  this  effect. 
And  then,  remembering  Dorlange,  he  begged  my  husband  to 
call  on  him  and  inquire  whether  he  would  undertake  to  execute 
a  monument.  Dorlange  at  first  affected  not  even  to  remember 
Marie-Gaston's  name,  and  under  a  civil  pretext  refused  the 
commission. 

But  here  comes  a  startling  instance  of  the  strength  of  old 
association  in  an  affectionate  nature.  On  the  evening  of  the 
day  when  he  had  shown  out  M.  de  1'Estorade,  being  at  the 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  143 

opera,  he  overheard  the  Due  de  Bhetore  speak  slightingly  of 
his  old  friend,  and  took  the  matter  up  with  eager  indignation. 
Hence  a  duel,  in  which  he  was  wounded — and  of  which  the 
news  must  certainly  have  reached  you ;  so  here  is  a  man  risking 
his  life  for  an  absentee  whom  he  had  strenuously  denied  in  the 
morning. 

How  all  this  long  story  is  directly  connected  with  my  own 
absurd  adventure  is  what  I  would  proceed  to  tell  you  if  my 
letter  were  not  already  interminable.  And,  indeed,  as  I  have 
called  it  the  chapter  of  a  novel,  this,  it  will  no  doubt  seem  to 
you,  is  a  favorable  place  for  a  break.  I  have,  I  flatter  myself, 
excited  your  interest  to  such  a  pitch  of  curiosity  as  to  have  a 
right  to  refuse  to  satisfy  it.  To  be  continued,  therefore,  by 
the  next  post. 

The  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PARIS,  March  1839. 

I  derived  the  main  facts  of  the  long  biographical  notice 
I  sent  you,  *my  dear  friend,  from  a  recent  letter  written  by 
M,  Marie-Gaston.  On  hearing  of  the  heroic  devotion  of  which 
he-  had  been  the  object,  his  first  impulse  was  to  hasten  to  Paris 
and  see  the  friend  who  had  made  such  a  noble  return  for  his 
faithlessness.  Unluckily,  the  day  before  he  should  have 
started,  a  painful  hindrance  interfered.  By  a  singular  coinci- 
dence, while  M.  Dorlange  was  wounded  in  his  behalf  in  Paris, 
he  himself,  visiting  Savarezza — one  of  the  finest  marble  quar- 
ries that  are  worked  at  Carrara — had  a  bad  fall  and  sprained 
his  leg.  Being  obliged  to  put  off  his  journey,  he  wrote  to  M. 
Dorlange  from  his  bed  of  suffering  to  express  his  gratitude. 

By  the  same  mail  I  also  received  a  voluminous  letter:  M. 
Marie-Gaston,  after  telling  me  all  the  past  history  of  their 
friendship,  begged  me  to  call  on  his  old  school-fellow  and  ad- 
vocate his  cause.  In  point  of  fact,  he  could  not  be  satisfied 
with  this  convincing  proof  of  the  place  he  still  held  in  M. 
Dorlange's  affections.  What  he  desires  is  to  prove  that,  in 
spite  of  evidence  to  the  contrary,  he  has  never  ceased  to  de- 


144 

serve  it.  This  is  a  matter  of  some  little  difficulty,  because  he 
would  not  on  any  account  consent  to  attribute  the  blame  to 
the  real  author  of  the  mischief.  This,  however,  is  the  whole 
secret  of  his  conduct  to  M.  Dorlange.  His  wife  was  bent  on 
having  him  entirely  to  herself,  and  insisted,  with  extraordi- 
nary perversity,  on  uprooting  every  other  feeling.  But  noth- 
ing would  persuade  him  to  admit  this,  or  the  sort  of  moral 
mediocrity  which  such  ill-regulated  and  frenzied  jealousy  de- 
notes. To  him  Louise  de  Chaulieu  is  absolute  perfection ; 
even  the  most  extravagant  freaks  of  her  imagination  and 
temper  were  in  his  eyes  adorable.  The  utmost  he  might  con- 
cede would  be  that  the  character  and  the  conduct  of  his  be- 
loved despot  must  not  be  weighed  in  the  same  scales  as  those 
of  other  women.  He  regards  Louise  as  a  glorious  exception  to 
her  sex  in  general,  and  would  allow  that  on  those  grounds 
indeed  she  may  need  explaining. 

Who  then  better  than  I,  from  whom  she  had  no  secrets, 
could  undertake  this  task  ?  So  I  was  requested  to  proceed  to 
throw  so  much  light  as  that  on  the  matter  for  M.  Dorlange's 
benefit;  since  if  Madame  Marie-Gaston's  influence  was  justi- 
fied and  understood,  her  husband's  conduct  must  be  forgiven. 

My  first  idea,  to  this  end,  was  to  write  a  note  to  his  friend 
the  sculptor  and  beg  him  to  call  on  me.  '  But,  on  second 
thoughts,  he  has  hardly  yet  got  over  his  wound,  and  besides, 
this  kind  of  convocation  with  a  definite  object  in  view  would 
give  an  absurd  solemnity  to  my  part  as  go-between.  I  thought 
of  another  plan.  Anybody  may  visit  an  artist's  studio :  with- 
out any  preliminary  announcement  I  could  call  on  M.  Dor- 
lange with  my  husband  and  Nai's,  under  pretence  of  reiterat- 
ing the  request  already  put  to  him  to  give  us  the  benefit  of  his 
assistance.  And  by  seeming  to  bring  my  feminine  influence 
to  bear  on  this  matter,  I  had  a  bridge  ready  made  to  lead  me 
to  the  true  point  of  my  visit. — Do  you  not  approve? — and 
doesn't  it  seem  to  you  that  in  this  way  everything  was  well 
prepared  ? 

So,  on  the  day  after  I  had  come  to  this  happy  conclusion,  I 
and  my  escort,  as  proposed,  found  our  way  to  a  pleasant  little 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  146 

house  in  the  liue  de  FOuest,  hehiiid  the  gardens  of  the  Lux- 
embourg, one  of  the  quietest  parts  of  Paris.  In  the  vestibule 
and  passages,  fragments  of  sculpture,  bas-reliefs,  and  inscrip- 
tions, nicely  arranged  against  the  walls,  showed  the  owner's 
good  taste  and  betrayed  his  habitual  interests. 

We  were  met  on  the  steps  by  a  woman  to  whom  M.  de  1'Es- 
torade  had  already  alluded.  The  Student  from  Eome,  it 
would  seem,  could  not  come  away  from  Italy  without  bringing 
some  souvenir.  This  beautiful  Italian,  a  sort  of  middle-class 
Galatea,  sometimes  housekeeper  and  sometimes  a  model,  rep- 
resenting at  once  the  Home  and  Art,  fulfils  in  M.  Dorlange's 
household — if  scandal  is  to  be  trusted — the  most  perfect  ideal 
of  the  "woman-of -all-work"  so  constantly  advertised  in  news- 
papers. 

At  the  same  time,  I  must  at  once  say  plainly  that  there  was 
absolutely  nothing  whatever  in  her  appearance  to  lead  me 
to  imagine  such  a  strange  plurality  of  offices.  She  was  gravely 
and  rather  coldly  polite.  Her  large,  velvety  black  eyes,  some- 
what tawny  complexion,  hair  done  in  bands,  and  arranged  in 
such  broad,  thick  plaits  as  to  show  that  it  must  be  magnifi- 
cently luxuriant,  her  rather  large  hands,  well  shaped  and  of 
an  amber  whiteness,  that  was  conspicuous  against  her  black 
dress ;  a  very  simple  dress,  but  fitting  so  as  to  do  justice  to  her 
splendid  figure;  and  then  an  air  of  almost  untamed  pride 
pervading  her  whole  person — the  demeanor  by  which,  as  I 
have  heard,  you  may  always  know  a  Koman  Trasteverina : 
there  you  have  the  portrait  of  our  guide  who  led  us  into  a 
gallery  crowded  with  works  of  art  and  opening  into  the  studio. 

While  this  handsome  housekeeper  announced  M.  le  Comte 
and  Mine,  la  Corntesse  de  1'Estorade,  M.  Dorlange,  in  a  pict- 
uresque studio  jacket,  having  his  back  to  us,  hastily  drew  a 
green  baize  curtain  in  front  of  the  statue  he  was  working  on. 

The  instant  he  turned  round,  before  I  had  had  time  to  be- 
lieve my  eyes,  imagine  my  astonishment  at  seeing  Xai's  rush 
up  to  him  and  almost  into  his  arms,  exclaiming  with  childish 
glee: 

"Oh  !  you  are  the  gentleman  who  saved  me  1" 


146  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

What — the  gentleman  who  had  saved  her?  Why,  then  M. 
Dorlange  must  be  that  much-talked-of  Unknown. 

Yes,  madame,  and  I  at  once  saw,  as  Na'is  did,  that  it  was 
certainly  he. 

"Well,  but  if  he  is  the  Unknown,  he  is  also  the  persecutor  ?" 

Yes,  madame;  chance,  often  the  most  ingenious  of  ro- 
mancers, willed  that  M.  Dorlange  should  be  all  this;  and  my 
last  letter,  I  fancy,  must  have  suggested  this  to  you,  if  only 
by  the  prolixity  with  which  I  enlarged  on  his  previous  his- 
tory. 

"And  you,  my  dear  Countess,  rushing  thus  into  his 
studio ?" 

My  dear  madame,  don't  speak  of  it !  Startled,  trembling, 
red  and  white  by  turns,  I  must  for  a  moment  have  looked  an 
image  of  awkward  confusion. 

Happily,  my  husband  launched  at  once  into  elaborate  com- 
pliments as  a  happy  and  grateful  father.  I,  meanwhile,  had 
time  to  recover  myself ;  and  when  it  came  to  my  turn  to  speak, 
I  had  composed  my  features  to  one  of  my  finest  expressions 
a  I'Estorade,  as  you  choose  to  call  them;  I  then,  as  you 
know,  register  twenty-five  degrees  below  zero,  and  should 
freeze  the  words  on  the  lips  of  the  most  ardent  adorer.  I  thus 
hoped  to  keep  my  artist  friend  at  a  distance,  and  hinder  him 
if  he  should  hope  to  make  capital  out  of  my  stupid  visit  to  his 
house.  M.  Dorlange  himself  seemed  surprised  rather  than 
disconcerted  by  the  meeting ;  and  then,  as  if  we  were  insisting 
on  our  gratitude  too  strongly  for  his  modesty,  to  cut  it  short 
and  suddenty  change  the  subject,  he  began: 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "since  we  are  better  acquainted  than 
we  had  any  reason  to  suppose,  may  I  be  permitted  to  indulge 
my  curiosity ?" 

I  fancied  I  felt  the  cat's  claw  extended  to  play  with  the 
mouse,  so  I  replied : 

"Artists,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  are  sometimes  very  indis- 
creetly curious " 

And  I  emphasized  my  meaning  with  a  marked  severity 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  147 

which  T  hoped  would  give  it  point.  But  my  man  was  not 
abashed. 

"I  hope  that  will  not  prove  to  he  the  case  with  my  inquiry/' 
eaid  he.  "I  only  wanted  to  know  if  you  have  a  sister?" 

"Well  done/'  thought  I.  "A  way  out  of  the  difficulty! 
The  game  he  means  to  play  is  to  ascribe  his  persistent  perse- 
cution to  some  fancied  resemblance." 

But  though  I  should  very  willingly  have  given  him  that 
loophole  in  M.  de  1'Estorade's  presence,  I  was  not  free  to  tell 
him  a  lie. 

"No,  monsieur/'  replied  I,  "I  have  no  sister — at  any  rate, 
not  to  my  knowledge." 

And  I  said  it  with  an  air  of  superior  cunning  so  as  to  make 
sure  of  not  being  taken  for  a  dupe. 

"At  any  rate,"  said  M.  Dorlange,  "it  was  not  impossible 
that  my  idea  was  a  true  one.  The  family,  among  whom  I 
once  met  a  lady  strikingly  like  you,  is  involved  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  mystery  which  allows  every  possible  hypothesis." 

"And  am  I  indiscreet  in  asking  their  name  ?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  They  are  people  you  may  perhaps  have 
known  in  Paris  in  1829-30.  They  kept  house  in  great  style, 
and  entertained  magnificently.  I  met  them  in  Italy." 

"But  their  name?"  said  I,  with  a  determination  that  was 
not  prompted,  I  own,  by  any  charitable  motive. 

"Lanty,"  said  M.  Dorlange,  without  any  hesitation  or  em- 
barrassment. 

There  was,  in  fact,  a  family  of  that  name  in  Paris  before 
I  came  to  live  here,  and  you,  like  me,  may  remember  hearing 
some  strange  tales  about  them. 

As  he  answered  the  question,  the  sculptor  went  up  to  the 
veiled  statue. 

"I  have  taken  the  liberty,  madame,  of  giving  you  the  sister 
you  never  had,"  he  said,  rather  abruptly,  "and  I  make  so  bold 
as  to  ask  you  if  you  do  not  yourself  dfscern  a  family  likeness  ?" 

At  the  same  time  he  pulled  away  the  baize  which  hid  the 
work,  and  then,  my  dear  madame,  I  beheld  myself,  in  the 
guise  of  a  saint,  crowned  with  glory.  How,  I  ask  you,  could 


148  THE  MEMBER  FOR  AEGIS 

I  be  angry?  On  seeing  the  startling  likeness  that  really 
stared  them  in  the  face,  my  husband  and  Na'is  exclaimed 
with  admiration. 

As  for  M.  Dorlange,  he  proceeded  without  delay  to  explain 
this  rather  dramatic  surprise. 

"This  statue,"  said  he,  "is  a  Saint  Ursula,  a  commission 
from  a  convent  in  the  country.  In  consequence  of  circum- 
stances too  long  to  relate,  the  features  of  the  young  lady  I 
mentioned  just  now  remained  deeply  stamped  on  my  memory. 
I  should  have  striven  vainly  to  create,  by  the  help  of  my  im- 
agination, any  head  that  would  more  perfectly  have  repre- 
sented my  idea.  I  began,  therefore,  to  model  it  from  memory ; 
but  one  day,  madame,  in  the  Church  of  St.  Thomas  d'Aquin, 
I  saw  you,  and  I  was  so  superstitious  as  to  believe  that  Provi- 
dence had  sent  you  to  me  as  a  duplicate  for  my  benefit.  From 
that  time  you  were  the  model  from  which  I  worked ;  and  as  I 
could  not  think  of  asking  you  to  come  and  sit  to  me  in  my 
studio,  I  availed  myself,  as  far  as  possible,  of  every  chance  of 
meeting  you.  I  also  took  particular  care  not  to  know  your 
name  or  your  social  position:  that  would  have  been  to  vul- 
garize you,  to  bring  you  down  from  the  ideal.  If  by  any 
mischance  you  had  happened  to  notice  my  persistency  in 
crossing  your  path,  you  would  have  taken  me  for  one  of 
those  idlers  who  hang  about  in  hope  of  an  adventure,  and  I 
was  nothing  worse  than  a  conscientious  artist,  prenant  son 
lien  oil  il  le  trouve,  like  Moliere,  making  the  most  of  my 
chances,  and  trying  to  find  inspiration  in  Nature  alone,  which 
always  gives  the  best  results." 

"Oh,  I  had  noticed  you  following  us,"  said  Nai's,  with  an 
all-knowing  air. 

Children !  my  dear  madame — does  any  one  understand 
them?  Nai's  had  seen  all;  at  the  time  of  her  accident  it 
would  have  been  natural  that  she  should  say  something  to  her 
father  or  to  me  about  this  gentleman,  whose  constant  presence 
had  not  escaped  her  notice — and  yet,  not  a  word.  Brought  up 
as  she  has  been  by  me  with  such  constant  care,  and  hardly 
ever  out  of  my  sight,  I  am  absolutely  certain  of  her  perfect 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  149 

innocence.  Then  it  must  be  supposed  that  Nature  alone  can 
give  a  little  girl  of  thirteen  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  certain 
secrets.  Is  it  not  terrible  to  think  of? 

But  husbands !  my  dear  madame,  husbands  are  what  are 
so  truly  appalling  when,  at  unexpected  moments,  we  find  them 
abandoned  to  a  sort  of  blind  predestination.  Mine,  for 
instance,  as  it  seems  to  me,  ought  to  have  pricked  up  his  ears 
as  he  heard  this  gentleman  describe  how  he  had  dared  to  take 
me  for  his  model.  M.  de  1'Estorade  is  not  considered  a  fool ; 
on  all  occasions  he  has  a  strong  sense  of  the  proprieties ;  and 
if  ever  I  should  give  the  least  cause,  I  believe  him  capable  of 
being  ridiculously  jealous.  And  yet,  seeing  his  belle  Renee, 
as  he  calls  me,  embodied  in  white  marble  as  a  saint,  threw 
him,  as  it  seems,  into  such  a  state  of  admiration  as  altered 
him  out  of  all  knowledge ! 

He  and  Nai's  were  wholly  absorbed  in  verifying  the  fidelity 
of  the  copy ;  that  was  quite  my  attitude,  quite  my  eyes,  my 
mouth,  the  dimples  in  my  cheeks.  In  short,  I  found  that  I 
must  take  upon  myself  the  part  which  M.  de  1'Estorade  had 
quite  forgotten,  so  I  said  very  gravely  to  this  audacious 
artist : 

"Does  it  not  occur  to  you,  monsieur,  that  thus  to  appropriate 
without  leave — in  short,  to  put  it  plainly,  thus  to  steal  a 
stranger's  features — might  strike  her,  or  him,  as  a  rather 
strange  proceeding?" 

"Indeed,  madame,"  replied  he,  very  respectfully,  "my 
fraudulent  conduct  would  never  have  gone  beyond  the  point 
you  yourself  might  have  sanctioned.  Though  my  statue  is 
doomed  to  be  buried  in  a  chapel  for  nuns,  I  should  not  have 
despatched  it  without  obtaining  your  permission  to  leave  it  as 
it  was.  I  could,  when  necessary,  have  ascertained  your  ad- 
dress; and  while  confessing  the  fascination  to  which  I  had 
succumbed,  I  should  have  requested  you  to  come  to  see  the 
work.  Then,  when  you  saw  it,  if  a  too  exact  likeness  should 
have  offended  you,  I  would  have  said  what  I  now  say :  with  a 
few  strokes  of  the  chisel  I  will  undertake  to  mislead  the  most 
practised  eye." 


150  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Diminish  the  resemblance !  That  was  no  part  of  the  pro- 
gramme! My  husband,  apparently,  did  not  think  it  close 
enough,  for  at  this  moment  he  turned  to  M.  Dorlange  to  say, 
with  beatific  blandness : 

"Do  not  you  think,  monsieur,  that  Madame  de  1'Estorade's 
nose  is  just  a  little  thinner  ?" 

Thoroughly  upset  as  I  was  by  these  unforeseen  incidents, 
I  should,  I  fear,  have  pleaded  badly  for  M.  Marie-Gaston ; 
however,  at  my  very  first  allusion  to  the  subject : 

"I  know,"  said  M.  Dorlange,  "all  you  could  say  in  defence 
of  the  'faithless  one.'  I  do  not  forgive,  but  I  will  forget. 
As  things  have  turned  out,  I  was  within  an  ace  of  being 
killed  for  his  sake,  and  it  would  be  really  too  illogical  to  owe 
him  now  a  grudge  on  old  scores.  Still,  as  regards  the  monu- 
ment at  Ville-d'Avray,  nothing  will  induce  me  to  undertake 
it.  As  I  have  already  explained  to  M.  de  1'Estorade,  there 
is  an  obstacle  in  the  way  which  grows  more  definite  every  day ; 
I  also  consider  it  contemptible  in  Marie-Gaston  that  he  should 
persist  in  chewing  the  cud  of  his  grief,  and  I  have  written  to 
him  to  that  effect.  He  must  show  himself  a  man,  and  seek 
such  consolation  as  may  always  be  found  in  study  and  work." 

The  object  of  my  visit  was  at  an  end,  and  for  the  moment 
I  had  no  hope  of  penetrating  the  dark  places,  on  which,  how- 
ever, I  must  throw  some  light.  As  I  rose  to  leave,  M.  Dor- 
lange said: 

"May  I  hope,  then,  that  you  will  not  insist  on  any  too 
serious  disfigurement  of  my  statue  ?" 

"It  is  my  husband  rather  than  I  who  must  answer  that 
question.  We  can  re-open  it  on  another  occasion,  for  M. 
de  1'Estorade  hopes  you  will  do  us  the  honor  to  return  this 
call." 

M.  Dorlange  bowed  respectful  acquiescence,  and  we  came 
away.  As  he  saw  us  to  the  carriage,  not  venturing  to  offer 
me  his  arm,  I  happened  to  turn  round  to  call  Na'is,  who  was 
rashly  going  up  to  a  Pyrenean  dog  that  lay  in  the  forecourt. 
I  then  perceived  the  handsome  housekeeper  behind  a  window- 
curtain  eagerly  watching  me.  Finding  herself  caught  in  the 
act,  she  dropped  the  curtain  with  evident  annoyance. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  151 

"Well,"  thought  I,  "now  this  woman  is  jealous  of  me! 
Is  she  afraid,  I  wonder,  that  T  may  become  her  rival,  at  least 
as  a  model?" 

In  fact,  I  came  away  in  a  perfectly  vile  temper.  I  was 
furious  with  Nais  and  with  my  husband.  I  could  have  given 
him  the  benefit  of  a  scene  of  which  he  certainly  could  have 
made  neither  head  nor  tail. 

Now,  what  do  you  think  of  it  all  ?  Is  this  man  one  of  the 
cleverest  rogues  alive,  who  all  in  a  moment,  to  get  himself 
out  of  a  scrape,  could  invent  the  most  plausible  fiction?  Or 
is  he,  indeed,  an  artist  and  nothing  but  an  artist,  who  artlessly 
regarded  me  as  the  living  embodiment  of  his  ideal? — This 
is  what  I  mean  to  find  out  within  the  next  few  days;  for, 
more  than  ever  now,  I  shall  carry  out  my  programme,  and  not 
later  than  to-morrow  M.  le  Comte  and  Mme.  la  Comtesse  de 
1'Estorade  will  have  the  honor  of  inviting  M.  Dorlange  to 
dinner. 

The  Comtesse  de  1'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PARIS,  March  1839. 

DEAR  MADAME, — M.  Dorlange  dined  with  us  yesterday. 
My  own  notion  had  been  to  receive  him  en  famille,  so  as  to 
have  him  under  my  eye  and  catechise  him  at  my  ease.  But  M. 
de  1'Estorade,  to  whom  I  did  not  communicate  my  disinter- 
ested purpose,  pointed  out  that  such  an  invitation,  to  meet 
nobody,  might  be  taken  amiss:  M.  le  Comte  de  1'Estorade, 
Peer  of  France,  might  appear  to  regard  the  sculptor  Dorlange 
as  having  no  pretensions  to  mix  with  his  society. 

"We  cannot  treat  him,"  my  husband  smilingly  added,  "as 
if  he  were  one  of  our  farmers'  sons  who  came  to  display  his 
sub-lieutenant's  epaulette,  and  whom  we  should  invite  quite 
by  himself  because  we  could  not  send  him  to  the  kitchen." 

So  to  meet  our  principal  guest,  we  asked  M.  Joseph  Bridau 
the  painter;  the  Chevalier  d'Espard,  M.  and  Mme.  de  la 
Bastie,  and  M.  de  Ronquerolles.  When  inviting  this  last  gen- 


152  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

tleman,  my  husband  took  care  to  ask  him  whether  he  would 
object  to  meeting  M.  de  Khetore's  adversary — for  you  know, 
no  doubt,  that  the  Duke  chose  for  his  seconds  in  the  duel 
General  de  Montriveau  and  M.  de  Ronquerolles. 

"Far  from  objecting,"  he  replied,  "I  am  delighted  to  seize 
an  opportunity  of  improving  my  acquaintance  with  a  clever 
man,  whose  conduct  in  the  affair  in  which  we  were  concerned 
was  in  all  respects  admirable." 

And  when  my  husband  told  him  of  the  obligation  we  owe 
to  M.  Dorlange: 

"Why,  the  artist  is  a  hero !"  he  exclaimed.  "If  he  goes 
on  as  he  has  begun,  we  shall  not  be  able  to  reach  to  his 
knees." 

In  his  studio,  with  his  throat  bare  so  as  to  give  freedom 
to  his  head,  which  is  a  little  large  for  his  body,  and  dressed 
in  a  most  becoming  loose  Oriental  sort  of  garment,  M. 
Dorlange  was  certainly  better  looking  than  in  ordinary  even- 
ing dress.  At  the  same  time,  when  he  is  talking  with  anima- 
tion, his  face  lights  up,  and  then  his  eyes  seem  to  pour  out  a 
tide  of  that  magnetic  fluid  of  which  I  had  been  conscious  at 
our  previous  meetings.  Mme.  de  la  Bastie  was  no  less  struck 
by  it. 

I  forgot  whether  I  told  you  of  the  object  of  M.  Dorlange's 
ambition :  he  proposes  to  come  forward  as  a  candidate  on  the 
occasion  of  the  next  elections.  This  was  his  reason  for  de- 
clining the  commission  offered  him  by  my  husband  as  repre- 
senting M.  Marie-Gaston.  This,  which  M.  de  1'Estorade  and 
I  had  supposed  to  be  a  mere  subterfuge  or  an  empty  dream, 
is,  it  would  seem,  a  serious  scheme.  At  dinner,  being 
challenged  by  M.  Joseph  Bridau  as  to  the  reality  of  his  parlia- 
mentary pretensions,  M.  Dorlange  asserted  and  maintained 
them.  As  a  result,  almost  all  through  the  dinner,  the  con- 
versation took  an  exclusively  political  turn.  •  I  expected  to 
find  our  artist,  if  not  an  absolute  novice,  at  least  very  moder- 
ately conversant  with  such  matters,  which  hitherto  must  have 
lain  quite  outside  his  range.  JSTot  at  all ;  on  men  and  things, 
on  the  past  and  future  history  of  party  strife,  he  had  really 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  153 

fresh  views,  evidently  not  borrowed  from  the  daily  cant  of 
newspapers;  and  he  spoke  with  lucidity,  ease,  and  elegance — 
so  much  so,  that,  when  he  had  left,  M.  de  Ronquerolles  and 
M.  de  FEstorade  expressed  their  amazement  at  the  clear  and 
powerful  political  intelligence  that  he  had  revealed  to  them. 
The  admission  is  all  the  more  striking  because  these  two  gen- 
tlemen, both  by  instinct  and  position,  are  staunch  Conserva- 
tives, while  M.  Dorlange's  proclivities  tend  very  evidently  to 
democratic  ideas. 

This  quite  unexpected  intellectual  superiority  in  my 
problematical  admirer  reassured  me  considerably.  Politics, 
in  fact,  are  an  absorbing  and  dominating  passion  which  can 
scarcely  allow  a  second  to  flourish  by  its  side.  Xevertheless, 
I  was  bent  on  studying  the  situation  to  the  bottom,  and  after 
dinner  I  insidiously  drew  my  gentleman  into  one  of  those 
tete-a-tete  chats  which  the  mistress  of  a  house  can  generally 
arrange.  After  speaking  of  M.  Marie-Gaston,  our  friend  in 
common,  of  my  dear  Louise's  crazy  flights,  and  my  own  con- 
stant but  useless  attempts  to  moderate  them,  after  giving  him 
every  opportunity  and  facility  for  opening  the  battle,  I 
asked  him  whether  his  Saint  Ursula  was  to  be  sent  off 
soon. 

"It  is  quite  ready  to  start,  madame/'  said  he.  "But  I  wait 
for  your  permission,  your  exeat;  for  you  to  tell  me,  in  short, 
whether  or  no  I  am  to  alter  anything  in  the  face." 

"First  tell  me  this,"  replied  I.  "Supposing  I  were  to  wish 
for  any  alteration,  would  such  a  change  greatly  injure  the 
statue  ?" 

"It  probably  would.  However  little  you  clip  a  bird's 
wings,  it  is  always  checked  in  its  flight." 

"One  more  question.  Is  your  statue  most  like  me  or  the 
other  woman?" 

"You,  madame,  I  need  hardly  say.  You  are  the  present; 
she  is  the  past." 

"But  to  throw  over  the  past  in  favor  of  the  present  is 
called,  as  you  doubtless  are  aware,  monsieur,  by  an  ugly 


154  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

name.  And  you  confess  to  this  evil  tendency  with  a  frank 
readiness  that  is  really  quite  startling." 

"It  is  true  that  art  can  be  brutal,"  said  M.  Dorlange,  laugh- 
ing. "Wherever  it  may  find  the  raw  material  of  a  creation, 
it  rushes  on  it  with  frenzy." 

"Art,"  said  I,  "is  a  big  word,  under  which  a  world  of 
things  find  refuge ! — The  other  day  you  told  me  that  cir- 
cumstances, too  long  to  be  related,  had  contributed  to  stamp 
on  your  mind,  as  a  constant  presence,  the  features  of  which 
mine  are  a  reflection,  and  which  have  left  such  an  impression 
on  your  memory.  Was  not  this  saying  pretty  plainly  that  it 
was  not  the  sculptor  alone  -who  remembered  them  ?" 

"Indeed,  madame,  I  had  not  time  to  explain  myself  more 
fully.  And  in  any  case,  on  seeing  you  for  the  first  time, 
would  you  not  have  thought  it  extraordinary  if  I  had  assumed 
a  confidential  tone? " 

"But  now?"  said  I  audaciously. 

"Even  now,  unless  under  very  express  encouragement,  I 
should  find  it  hard  to  persuade  myself  that  anything  in  my 
past  life  could  have  a  special  interest  for  you." 

"But  why  so?  Some  acquaintances  ripen  quickly.  Your 
devotion  to  my  ISTais  is  a  long  step  forward  in  ours. — Be- 
sides," I  added  with  affected  giddiness,  "I  love  a  story  be- 
yond all  things." 

"Besides  the  fact  that  mine  has  no  end,  it  has,  even  to 
me,  remained  a  mystery." 

"All  the  more  reason Between  us,  perhaps,  we  may 

be  able  to  solve  it." 

M.  Dorlange  seemed  to  consider  the  matter;  then,  after 
a  short  silence,  he  said: 

"It  is  very  true;  women  are  clever  in  discerning  faint 
traces  in  facts  or  feelings  where  we  men  can  detect  none. 
But  this  revelation  does  not  involve  myself  alone,  and  I  must 
be  allowed  to  beg  that  it  remains  absolutely  between  ourselves. 
I  do  not  except  even  M.  de  FEstorade;  a  secret  ceases  to 
exist  when  once  it  goes  beyond  the  speaker  and  the  recipient." 

I  really  was  desperately  puzzled  as  to  what  was  coming. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  155 

This  last  clause  suggested  the  cautious  preliminaries  of  a  man 
about  to  trespass  on  another's  property.  However,  I  pursued 
my  policy  of  impudence  and  encouragement. 

"M.  de  1'Estorade,"  said  I,  "is  so  little  accustomed  to  hear 
everything  from  me,  that  he  never  saw  a  single  line  of  my 
correspondence  with  Madame  Marie-Gaston." 

At  the  same  time  I  made  a  mental  reservation  with  refer- 
ence to  you,  my  dear  friend ;  for  are  you  not  the  keeper  of 
my  conscience?  And  to  a  confessor  one  must  confess  all,  if 
one  is  to  be  judiciously  advised. 

Till  now  M.  Dorlange  had  been  standing  in  front  of  the 
fireplace,  while  I  sat  at  the  corner.  He  now  took  a  chair 
close  to  me,  and  by  way  of  preamble  he  said : 

"I  spoke  to  you,  madame,  of  the  Lanty  family " 

At  this  instant  Mme.  de  la  Bastie,  as  provoking  as  a  shower 
at  a  picnic,  came  up  to  ask  me  whether  I  had  seen  Nathan's 
new  play?  Much  I  cared  for  anybody  else's  comedy  when 
absorbed  in  this  drama,  in  which  it  would  seem  I  had  played 
a  pretty  lively  part !  However,  M.  Dorlange  was  obliged 
to  give  up  his  seat  by  me,  and  it  was  impossible  to  have  him 
to  myself  any  more  that  evening. 

As  you  see,  nothing  has  come  of  all  my  forwardness  and 
wiliness;  no  light  has  dawned  on  the  matter;  but  in  the 
absence  of  any  advances  from  M.  Dorlange,  as  I  remember 
his  manner,  which  I  carefully  studied,  I  am  more  and  more 
inclined  to  believe  in  his  perfect  innocence. 

Nor,  in  fact,  is  there  anything  in  this  interrupted  tale 
to  suggest  that  love  played  the  part  I  had  insinuated.  There 
are  plenty  more  ways  of  stamping  a  personality  on  one's 
memory;  and  if  M.  Dorlange  did  not  love  the  woman  of 
whom  I  reminded  him,  what  grudge  can  he  have  against  me 
who  am  but  a  sort  of  second  edition?  Nor  must  we  over- 
look that  very  handsome  housekeeper;  for,  granting  that  she 
is  but  a  habit,  adopted  for  reasons  of  common  sense  rather 
than  a  passion,  the  woman  must  still  be,  at  any  rate  in  some 
degree,  a  fence  against  me.  Consequently,  dear  madame,  all 
the  alarms  I  have  dinned  into  your  ears  would  be  ridiculous 


156 

indeed;  I  should  somewhat  resemble  Belise  in  Les  Femmes 
Savantes,  who  is  haunted  by  the  idea  that  every  one  who 
sees  her  must  fall  in  love  with  her. 

But  I  should  be  only  too  glad  to  come  to  this  dull  con- 
clusion. 

Lover  or  no,  M.  Dorlange  is  a  man  of  high  spirit  and 
remarkable  powers  of  mind;  if  he  does  not  put  himself  out 
of  court  by  any  foolish  aspirations,  it  will  be  an  honor  and 
a  pleasure  to  place  him  on  our  list  of  friends.  The  service 
he  did  us  predestines  him  to  this,  and  I  should  really  be  sorry 
to  seem  hard  on  him.  In  that  case,  indeed,  Nais  would 
quarrel  with  me,  for  she  very  naturally  thinks  everything 
of  her  rescuer. 

In  the  evening,  when  he  left : 

"Mamma,  how  well  M.  Dorlange  talks !"  said  she,  with  a 
most  amusing  air  of  approval. 

Speaking  of  Nai's,  this  is  the  explanation  she  gives  of  the 
reserve  that  disturbed  me  so  much. 

"Well,  mamma,"  said  she,  "I  supposed  that  you  would  have 
seen  him  too.  But  after  he  stopped  the  horses,  as  you  did 
not  seem  to  know  him,  and  as  he  is  rather  common-looking, 
I  fancied  he  was  a  man " 

"A  man — what  do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  yes;  the  sort  of  man  one  takes  no  notice  of.  But 
how  glad  I  was  when  I  found  that  he  was  a  gentleman  !  You 
heard  me  exclaim,  'Wliy,  you  are  the  gentleman  who  saved 
me/  " 

Though  her  innocence  is  perfect,  there  is  in  this  explana- 
tion an  ugly  streak  of  pride,  on  which,  you  may  be  sure,  I 
delivered  a  fine  lecture.  This  distinction  between  the  man 
and  the  gentleman  is  atrocious ;  but,  on  the  whole,  was  not  the 
child  in  the  right  ?  She  only  said  with  guileless  crudity  what 
even  our  democratic  notions  still  allow  us  to  carry  out  in 
practice,  though  they  do  not  allow  us  to  profess  it.  The 
famous  Eevolution  of  '89,  at  any  rate,  went  so  far  as  to 
establish  this  virtuous  hypocrisy  on  a  social  footing.  But 
here  am  I  too  drifting  into  politics ;  and  if  I  carry  my  criticism 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  157 

any  further,  you  will  be  telling  me  to  beware,  for  that  I  am 
already  catching  it  from  M.  Dorlange. 

The  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PAKIS,  April  1839. 

For  nearly  a  fortnight,  my  dear  madame,  we  heard  no  more 
of  M.  Dorlange.  Not  only  did  he  not  think  proper  to  come 
and  re-open  the  confidences  so  provokingly  interrupted  by 
Madame  de  la  Bastie,  but  he  did  not  seem  aware  that  after 
dining  with  anybody,  a  card,  at  least,  is  due  within  a  week. 

Yesterday  morning  we  were  at  breakfast,  and  I  had  just 
made  a  remark  to  this  effect,  without  bitterness,  and  merely 
by  way  of  conversation,  when  Lucas,  who,  as  an  old  servant, 
is  somewhat  overbold  and  familiar,  made  some  one  throw 
open  the  door  of  the  dining-room  as  if  in  triumph;  and 
handing  a  note  first  to  M.  de  I'Estorade,  he  set  down  in  the 
middle  of  the  table  a  mysterious  object  wrapped  in  tissue 
paper,  which  at  first  suggested  a  decorative  dish  of  some 
kind. 

"What  in  the  world  is  that?"  I  asked  Lucas,  seeing  in 
his  face  the  announcement  of  a  surprise.  And  I  put  out  my 
hand  to  tear  away  the  paper. 

"Oh,  madame,  be  careful !"  cried  he.     "It  is  breakable." 

My  husband  meanwhile  had  read  the  note,  which  he  handed 
to  me,  saying,  "M.  Dorlange's  apology/' 

This  is  what  the  artist  wrote : — 

"Monsieur  le  Comte,  I  fancied  I  could  discern  that  Ma- 
dame de  I'Estorade  gave  me  permission  very  reluctantly  to 
take  advantage  of  the  audacious  use  I  had  made  of  my 
petty  larceny.  I  have  therefore  bravely  determined  to  alter 
my  work  and  at  the  present  moment  hardly  a  likeness  is  dis- 
cernible between  'the  two  sisters.'  Still,  I  could  not  bear 
that  all  I  had  done  should  be  lost  to  the  world,  so  I  had 
a  cast  taken  of  Saint  Ursula's  head  before  altering  it,  and 
made  a  reduced  copy,  placing  it  on  the  shoulders  of  a  charm- 
ing Countess,  who  is  not  yet  canonized,  thank  Heaven ! 


158  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"The  mould  was  broken  after  the  first  copy  was  taken, 
and  that  only  copy  I  have  the  honor  to  beg  you  to  accept. 
This  fact,  which  was  only  proper,  gives  the  statuette  rather 
more  value. — Believe  me,  etc." 

While  I  was  reading,  my  husband,  Lucas,  Nais,  and  Eene 
had  been  very  busy  extracting  me  from  my  wrappings;  and 
behold,  from  a  saint  I  had  been  converted  into  a  lady  of 
fashion,  in  the  shape  of  a  lovely  statuette  elegantly  dressed. 
I  thought  that  M.  de  1'Estorade  and  the  two  children  would 
go  crazy  with  admiration.  The  news  of  this  wonder  having 
spread  through  the  house,  all  the  servants — whom  we  certainly 
spoil — came  in  one  after  another,  as.  if  they  had  been  invited, 
and  each  in  turn  exclaimed — "How  like  madame !"  I  quote 
only  the  leading  theme,  and  do  not  remember  every  stupid 
variation. 

I  alone  remained  unaffected  by  the  general  enthusiasm. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  to  be  the  eternal  subject  of  M.  Dorlange's 
plastic  efforts  was  not  an  enviably  happy  lot;  and,  for  the 
reasons  you  know,  I  should  have  liked  far  better  to  be  less 
frequently  in  his  thoughts  and  under  his  chisel.  As  to  M. 
de  1'Estorade,  after  spending  an  hour  in  deciding  on  the  place 
in  his  study  where  the  great  work  would  look  best,  he  came  to 
say: 

"On  my  way  to  the  Exchequer  office  I  will  look  in  on 
M.  Dorlange.  If  he  is  disengaged  this  evening,  I  will  ask 
him  to  dine  here.  Armand,  whom  he  has  not  yet  seen,  will 
be  at  home;  thus  he  will  see  all  the  family  together,  and  you 
can  express  your  thanks." 

I  did  not  approve  of  this  family  dinner;  it  seemed  to  me 
to  place  M.  Dorlange  on  a  footing  of  intimacy  which  this 
fresh  civility  again  warned  me  might  be  dangerous.  When  1 
raised  some  little  difficulty,  M.  de  1'Estorade  remarked: 

"'Why,  my  dear,  the  first  time  we  invited  him,  you  wanted 
to  ask  him  only,  which  would  have  been  extremely  awkward, 
and  now  that  it  is  perfectly  suitable,  you  are  making  objec- 
tions !" 

To  this  argument,  which  placed  me  entirely  in  the  wrong, 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  159 

I  could  make  no  reply,  excepting  saying  to  myself  that  hus- 
bands are  sometimes  very  clumsy. 

M.  Dorlange  consented  to  join  us.  He  may  have  found 
me  a  little  cold  in  my  expressions  of  gratitude.  I  even  went 
so  far  as  to  say  that  I  should  not  have  asked  him  to  alter  the 
statue,  which  no  doubt  made  him  sorry  he  had  done  so,  and 
implied  that  I  did  not  particularly  approve  of  the  present  he 
had  sent  us. 

He  also  contrived  to  vex  me  on  another  point,  on  which, 
as  you  know,  I  am  never  amenable.  At  dinner,  M.  de 
1'Estorade  reverted  to  the  subject  of  the  elections,  disapprov- 
ing more  than  ever  of  M.  Dorlange  as  a  candidate,  though 
no  longer  thinking  it  ridiculous;  this  led  to  a  political  dis- 
cussion. Armand,  who  is  a  very  serious  person,  and  reads 
the  newspapers,  joined  in  the  conversation.  Unlike  most  lads 
of  the  present  day,  he  shares  his  father's  opinions,  that  is  to 
say,  he  is  strongly  Conservative — indeed,  rather  in  excess 
of  that  wise  moderation  which  is  very  rare,  no  doubt,  at  six- 
teen. He  was  thus  tempted  to  contradict  M.  Dorlange,  who, 
as  I  have  told  you,  is  a  bit  of  a  Jacobin.  And  really  it  did 
not  appear  to  me  that  my  little  man's  arguments  were  un- 
sound or  too  virulently  expressed. 

Without  being  rude,  M.  Dorlange  seemed  to  scorn  the  idea 
of  discussing  the  matter  with  the  poor  boy,  and  he  rather 
sharply  reminded  him  of  his  school  uniform;  so  much  so, 
that  I  saw  Armand  ready  to  lose  his  temper  and  answer 
viciously.  As  he  is  quite  well  bred,  I  had  only  to  give  him 
a  look,  and  he  controlled  himself ;  but  seeing  him  turn  crim- 
son and  shut  himself  up  in  total  silence,  I  felt  that  his  pride 
had  been  deeply  wounded,  and  thought  it  ungenerous  of  M. 
Dorlange  to  have  crushed  him  by  his  superiority.  I  know 
that  in  these  days  all  children  want  to  be  of  importance  too 
soon,  and  that  it  does  them  no  harm  to  interfere  now  and 
then  and  hinder  them  from  being  men  of  forty.  But  Armand 
really  has  powers  of  mind  and  reason  beyond  his  age. 

Do  you  want  proof? 

Until  last  year  I  would  never  part  from  him;  he  went 


160  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

to  the  College  Henri  IV.  as  a  day  scholar.  Well,  it  was  he 
who,  for  the  benefit  of  his  studies,  begged  to  be  placed  there 
as  a  boarder,  since  the  constant  to  and  fro  inevitably  inter- 
fered with  his  work;  and  to  be  allowed,  as  a  favor,  to  shut 
himself  up  under  the  ferule  of  an  usher,  he  exhausted  more 
arguments,  and  wheedled  me  with  more  coaxing,  than  most 
boys  would  have  used  to  obtain  the  opposite  result.  Thus 
the  grown-up  manner,  which  in  many  school-boys  is  intoler- 
ably absurd,  in  him  is  the  evident  result  of  natural  precocity, 
and  this  precocity  ought  to  be  forgiven  him,  since  it  is  the  gift 
of  God.  M.  Dorlange,  owing  to  the  misfortune  of  his  birth, 
is  less  able  than  most  men  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of  boys, 
so,  of  course,  he  is  deficient  in  indulgence. — But  he  had  better 
be  careful !  This  is  a  bad  way  of  paying  his  court  to  me, 
even  on  the  most  ordinary  footing  of  friendship. 

Being  so  small  a  party,  I  could  not,  of  course,  revert  to 
the  history  he  had  to  tell  me ;  but  I  did  not  think  that  he  was 
particularly  anxious  to  recur  to  the  subject.  In  fact,  he  was 
less  attentive  to  me  than  to  Na'is,  for  whom  he  cut  out  black 
paper  figures  during  an  hour  or  more.  It  must  also  be  said 
that  Madame  de  Eastignac  came  in  the  way,  and  that  I  had 
to  give  myself  up  to  her  visit.  While  I  was  talking  to  her 
by  the  fire,  M.  Dorlange,  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  was 
making  NVis  and  Rene  stand  for  their  portraits,  and  they 
presently  came  exultant  to  show  me  their  profiles,  wonderfully 
like,  snipped  out  with  the  scissors. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Na'is  in  a  whisper,  "M.  Dorlange  says 
he  will  make  a  bust  of  me  in  marble  ?" 

All  this  struck  me  as  in  rather  bad  taste.  I  do  not  like 
to  see  artists  who,  when  admitted  to  a  drawing-room,  still 
carry  on  the  business,  as  it  were.  They  thus  justify  the 
aristocratic  arrogance  which  sometimes  refuses  to  think  them 
worthy  to  be  received  for  their  own  sake. 

M.  Dorlange  went  away  early ;  and  M.  de  1'Estorade  got  on 
my  nerves,  as  he  has  done  so  many  times  in  his  life,  when 
he  insisted  on  showing  out  his  guest,  who  had  tried  to  steal 
away  unperceived,  and  I  heard  him  desire  him  to  repeat  his 
visits  less  rarely,  that  I  was  always  at  home  in  the  evening. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  161 

The  result  of  this  family  dinner  has  been  civil  war  among 
the  children.  Nai's  lauding  her  dear  deliverer  to  the  skies,  in 
which  she  is  supported  by  Kene,  who  is  completely  won  over 
by  a  splendid  lancer  on  horseback,  cut  out  for  him  by  M. 
Dorlange.  Armand,  on  the  contrary,  says  he  is  ugly,  which  is 
indisputable ;  he  declares  he  is  just  like  the  portraits  of  Danton 
in  the  illustrated  history  of  the  Eevolution,  and  there  is 
pome  truth  in  it.  He  also  says  that  in  the  statuette  he  has 
made  me  look  like  a  milliner's  apprentice,  which  is  not  true 
at  all.  Hence  endless  squabbles  among  the  dear  creatures. 
Only  just  now  I  was  obliged  to  interfere  and  tell  them  that 
I  was  tired  of  hearing  of  their  M.  Dorlange. 

Will  you  not  say  the  same  of  me,  dear  madame,  when  I 
have  written  so  much  about  him  and  told  you  nothing  definite 
after  all ? 

Dorlange  to  Marie-Oaston. 

PARIS,  April  1839. 

Why  do  I  give  up  my  art,  and  what  do  I  expect  to  find 
in  that  "galley"  called  politics?. 

That  is  what  comes,  my  dear  fond  lover,  of  shutting  your- 
self up  for  years  in  conventual  matrimony.  The  world,  mean- 
while, has  gone  on.  Life  has  brought  fresh  combinations  to 
those  whom  you  shut  out,  and  the  less  you  know  of  them,  the 
readier  you  are  to  blame  those  you  have  forgotten.  Every 
one  is  clever  at  patching  other  folks'  affairs. 

You  must  know  then,  my  inquisitive  friend,  that  it  was 
not  of  my  own  accord  that  I  took  the  step  for  which  you 
would  call  me  to  account.  My  unforeseen  appearance  in  the 
electoral  breach  was  in  obedience  to  the  desire  of  a  very  high 
personage.  A  father  has  at  last  allowed  a  gleam  of  light  to 
shine  in  the  eternal  darkness;  he  has  three  parts  revealed 
himself;  and,  if  I  may  trust  appearances,  he  fills  a  place  in 
society  that  might  satisfy  the  most  exacting  conceit.  And, 
to  be  in  keeping  with  the  usual  current  of  my  life,  this  revela- 
tion was  involved  in  circumstances  singular  and  romantic 
enough  to  deserve  telling  in  some  detail. 


162  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Since  for  two  years  past  you  have  been  living  in  Italy 
and  visiting  the  most  interesting  cities,  I  believe  I  need  hardly 
tell  you  that  the  Cafe  Greco  is  the  general  haunt  of  the  art 
pupils  from  the  Paris  schools,  and  the  artists  of  every  nation- 
ality who  are  staying  in  Home. 

In  Paris,  Rue  du  Coq-Saint-Honore,  there  is  remote 
equivalent  for  this  institution  in  a  cafe  that  has  long  been 
known  as  the  Cafe  des  Arts.  I  spend  the  evening  there  two 
or  three  times  a  week,  and  meet  there  several  Roman  students, 
my  contemporaries.  They  have  made  me  acquainted  with 
some  journalists  and  men  of  letters,  agreeable  and  superior 
men,  with  whom  it  is  both  pleasant  and  profitable  to  exchange 
ideas.  There  is  a  particular  corner  where  we  congregate, 
and  where  every  question  of  a  serious  character  is  discussed 
and  thrashed  out;  but,  as  having  the  most  living  interests, 
politics  especially  give  rise  to  the  most  impassioned  argu- 
ments. In  our  little  club  democratic  views  predominate ;  they 
are  represented  in  the  most  diverse  shades,  including  the 
Utopia  or  phalanstery  of  workers.  This  will  show  you  that 
the  proceedings  of  the  Government  are  often  severely  handled, 
and  that  unlimited  freedom  of  language  characterizes  our 
verdicts. 

Rather  more  than  a  year  ago  the  waiter — the  only  waiter 
who  is  allowed  the  honor  of  supplying  our  wants — took  me 
aside  one  day,  having,  as  he  declared,  a  communication  of 
importance  to  make. 

"You  are  watched  by  the  police,  sir,''  said  he,  "and  you 
will  be  wise  not  to  talk  always  open-mouthed  like  St.  Paul." 

"By  the  police,  my  good  fellow !  Why,  what  on  earth  can 
it  find  to  watch?  All  I  can  say,  and  a  great  deal  more,  is 
printed  every  morning  in  the  newspapers." 

"That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  They  have  an  eye  on 
you.  I  have  seen  it.  There  is  a  little  old  man  who  takes  a 
great  deal  of  snuff,  and  who  always  sits  where  he  can  hear 
you.  When  you  are  speaking  he  listens  much  more  attentively 
than  to  any  of  the  others,  and  I  even  caught  him  once  writing 
something  in  his  pocket-book  in  signs  that  were  not  the 
alphabet." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  163 

"Very  good ;  the  next  time  he  comes,  show  him  to  me." 

The  next  time  was  no  further  off  than  the  morrow. 

The  man  pointed  out  was  small  and  gray-haired,  untidy  in 
his  appearaance,  and  his  face,  deeply  marked  by  the  small-pox, 
was,  I  thought,  that  of  a  man  of  fifty.  And  he  certainly 
very  often  took  a  pinch  out  of  a  large  snuff-box,  and  seemed 
to  honor  my  remarks  with  a  degree  of  attention  which  I  could, 
as  I  chose,  regard  as  highly  complimentary  or  extremely  im- 
pertinent. But  of  the  two  alternatives  I  was  inclined  to  the 
more  charitable  by  the  air  of  honesty  and  mildness  that  per- 
vaded this  supposed  emissary  of  the  police.  When  I  re- 
marked on  this  reassuring  aspect  to  the  waiter,  who  flattered 
himself  that  he  had  scented  out  a  secret  agent: 

"Oh  yes,  indeed !"  said  he.  "Those  are  the  sweet  manners 
they  always  put  on  to  hide  their  game." 

Two  days  after,  one  Sunday,  at  the  hour  of  vespers,  in  the 
course  of  one  of  those  long  walks  all  across  Paris,  which  you 
know  I  always  loved,  mere  chance  led  me  into  the  Church  of 
Saint-Louis  en  File,  the  parish  church  of  that  God-forsaken 
quarter.  The  building  is  not  particularly  interesting,  in  spite 
of  what  some  historians  have  said,  and,  following  them,  every 
Stranger's  Guide  to  Paris.  I  should  only  have  walked 
through  it,  but  that  the  wonderful  talent  of  the  organist  who 
was  playing  the  service  irresistibly  held  me.  When  I  tell 
you  that  the  performer  came  up  to  my  ideal,  you  will  know 
that  is  high  praise;  for  you  will,  I  daresay,  remember  that 
I  draw  a  distinction  between  organ  players  and  organists — a 
rank  of  the  superior  nobility  to  whom  I  grant  the  title  only 
on  the  highest  grounds. 

When  the  service  was  over,  I  was  curious  to  see  the  face 
of  so  remarkable  an  artist  buried  in  such  a  corner.  I  took 
my  stand  at  the  door  from  the  organ  loft  to  be  close  to  the 
player  as  he  came  out.  I  could  have  done  no  more  for  a 
crowned  head!  But  are  not  great  artists,  after  all,  the  real 
kings  by  divine  right?  Imagine  my  amazement  when,  aftei 
waiting  a  few  minutes,  instead  of  a  perfectly  strange  face,  1 
saw  a  man  whom  I  at  once  vaguely  recognized,  and  knew  at 


164  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

a  second  glance  for  my  watchful  listener  of  the  Cafe  des  Arts. 
NOT  was  this  all:  at  his  heels  came  a  sort  of  spoilt  attempt 
at  humanity;  and  in  this  misshapen  failure,  with  crooked 
legs  and  a  thicket  of  unkempt  hair,  I  discerned  our  old 
quarterly  providence,  my  banker,  my  money-carrier — in  short, 
our  respected  friend  the  mysterious  dwarf. 

I,  you  may  be  sure,  did  not  escape  his  sharp  eye,  and  I 
saw  him  eagerly  pointing  me  out  to  the  organist.  He  in- 
stinctively, and  not  probably  calculating  all  that  would  come 
of  it,  turned  quickly  to  look  at  me,  and  then,  taking.no  further 
notice  of  me,  went  on  his  way.  The  dwarf,  meanwhile — whom 
I  might  recognize  as  his  master's  servant  by  this  single  detail 
— went  familiarly  up  to  the  man  who  distributed  holy  water 
and  offered  him  a  pinch  of  snuff;  then  he  hobbled  away, 
never  looking  at  me  again,  and  vanished  through  a  door  in  a 
corner  under  one  of  the  side  aisles. 

The  care  this  man  had  taken  to  point  me  out  to  the  organ- 
ist was  a  revelation.  The  Maestro  was  evidently  fully  in- 
formed as  to  the  strange  means  by  which  my  allowance  used 
to  reach  me,  and  it  had  been  regularly  handed  over  to  me 
after  my  return  from  Eome,  till  I  was  placed  above  want  by 
receiving  some  commissions.  It  was  not  less  probable  that 
the  man  who  knew  about  this  financial  mystery  was  the  de- 
positary of  other  secrets;  and  I  was  all  the  more  eager  to 
extract  from  him  some  explanation  because,  as  I  am  now  living 
on  the  fruit  of  my  own  exertions,  I  had  no  fear  of  finding 
my  curiosity  punished  by  the  stoppage  of  supplies  that  had 
formerly  been  threatened. 

I  acted  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  and  rushed  after  the 
organist.  By  the  time  I  had  got  out  of  the  church  door,  he 
was  out  of  sight,  but  chance  favored  me  and  led  me  in  the 
direction  he  had  taken ;  as  I  came  out  on  the  Quai  de  Bethune, 
I  saw  him  in  the  distance  knocking  at  a  door. 

I  boldly  followed  and  paid  to  the  gate  porter: 

"Is  the  organist  of  Saint-Louis  en  File  within  ?" 

"M.  Jacques  Bricheteau?" 

"Yes,  M.  Jacques  Bricheteau;  he  lives  here,  I  think?" 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  165 

"On  the  fourth  floor  above  the  entresol,  the  door  on  the 
left.  He  has  just  come  in;  you  may  catch  him  up  on  the 
stairs." 

Run  as  fast  as  I  could,  by  the  time  I  reached  my  man 
his  key  was  in  the  lock. 

"M.  Jacques  Bricheteau?"  I  hastily  exclaimed.  "I  have 
the  honor,  I  think ?" 

"I  know  no  such  person,"  said  he  coolly,  as  he  turned 
the  key. 

"I  may  be  mistaken  in  the  name;  but  M.  the  organist  of 
Saint-Louis  en  File?" 

"I  never  heard  of  any  organist  living  in  this  house." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  monsieur:  there  certainly  is,  for  the 
concierge  has  just  told  me  so.  Besides,  you  are  undoubtedly 
the  gentleman  I  saw  coming  out  of  the  organ  loft,  accom- 
panied by  a  man — I  may  say " 

But  before  I  had  finished  speaking,  this  strange  individual 
had  balked  me  of  his  company  and  shut  his  door  in  my 
face. 

For  a  moment  I  wondered  whether  I  had  been  mistaken; 
but,  on  reflection,  mistake  was  impossible.  Had  not  this  man 
already,  and  for  years,  proved  his  extravagant  secretiveness  ? 
It  was  he  certainly  who  persistently  refused  to  have  anything 
to  say  to  me,  and  not  I  who  had  blundered.  I  proceeded  to 
pull  his  bell  with  some  energy,  quite  determined  to  persist  till 
I  knew  the  reason  of  this  fixed  purpose  of  ignoring  me.  For 
some  little  time  the  besieged  party  put  up  with  the  turmoil 
I  was  making;  but  I  suddenly  remarked  that  the  bell  had 
ceased  to  sound.  It  had  evidently  been  muffled ;  the  obstinate 
foe  would  not  come  to  the  door,  and  the  only  way  of  getting 
at  him  would  be  to  beat  it  in.  That,  however,  is  not  thought 
mannerly. 

I  went  down  again  to  the  door-porter  and  told  him  of  my 
failure,  without  saying  anything  about  the  reasons  that  had 
led  to  it ;  and  I  so  far  invited  his  confidence  that  I  extracted 
some  information  concerning  the  impenetrable  M.  Jacques 
Bricheteau.  But  though  it  was  given  with  all  desirable  will- 


166  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

ingness,  it  threw  no  light  whatever  on  the  situation. — M. 
Bricheteau  was  a  quiet  resident,  polite  but  not  communica- 
tive; punctual  in  paying  his  rent,  but  not  in  easy  circum- 
stances, for  he  kept  no  servant — not  even  a  maid  to  clean  for 
him,  and  he  never  took  a  meal  at  home.  He  was  always  out 
by  ten  in  the  morning,  and  never  came  in  till  the  evening, 
and  was  probably  a  clerk  in  an  office,  or  perhaps  a  music 
master  giving  lessons. 

Only  one  fact  in  this  heap  of  vague  and  useless  information 
seemed  to  be  of  the  slightest  interest.  For  some  months 
past  M.  Jacques  Bricheteau  had  pretty  frequently  been  the 
recipient  of  heavy  letters,  which,  to  judge  by  the  cost  of 
postage,  were  no  doubt  from  some  distant  country;  but,  with 
the  best  will  in  the  world,  the  worthy  porter  had  never  been 
able  to  decipher  the  postmark,  and  at  any  rate  the  name, 
which  he  had  but  guessed  at,  had  quite  escaped  his  memory; 
so  for  the  moment  this  observation,  which  might  have  been  of 
some  use,  was  absolutely  valueless. 

On  my  return  home  I  persuaded  myself  that  a  pathetic 
epistle  addressed  to  my  recalcitrant  friend  would  induce  him 
to  admit  me.  Seasoning  my  urgent  supplication  with  a  spice 
of  intimidation,  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  I  was  immov- 
ably bent  on  penetrating,  at  any  cost,  the  mystery  of  my  birth, 
of  which  he  seemed  to  be  fully  informed.  Now  that  I  had 
some  clue  to  the  secret,  it  would  be  his  part  to  consider 
whether  my  desperate  efforts,  blindly  rushing  against  the 
dark  unknown,  might  not  entail  much  greater  trouble  than 
the  frank  explanation  I  begged  him  to  favor  me  with. 

My  ultimatum  thus  formulated,  to  the  end  that  it  should 
reach  the  hands  of  M.  Jacques  Bricheteau  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, on  the  following  morning,  before  nine,  I  arrived  at  the 
door.  But,  in  a  frenzy  of  secrecy — unless  he  has  some  really 
inexplicable  reason  for  avoiding  me — at  daybreak  that  morn- 
ing, after  paying  the  rent  for  the  current  term  and  for  a 
term's  notice,  the  organist  had  packed  off  his  furniture ;  and  it 
is  to  be  supposed  that  the  men  employed  in  this  sudden  flitting 
were  handsomely  bribed  for  their  silence,  since  the  concierge 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  167 

could  not  discover  the  name  of  the  street  whither  his  lodger 
was  moving.  The  men  did  not  belong  to  the  neighborhood, 
so  there  was  not  a  chance  of  unearthing  them  and  paying 
them  to  speak.  The  man,  whose  curiosity  was  at  least  as 
eager  as  my  own,  had,  to  be  sure,  thought  of  a  simple  plan 
for  gratifying  it.  This,  not  indeed  a  very  creditable  one, 
was  to  follow  the  van  in  which  the  musician's  household  goods 
were  packed.  But  the  confounded  fellow  was  prepared  for 
everything:  he  kept  an  eye  on  the  over- zealous  porter,  and 
remained. on  sentry  duty  in  front  of  the  house  till  his  cargo 
was  too  far  on  its  way  for  any  risk  of  pursuit. 

Still,  and  in  spite  of  the  obstinacy  and  cleverness  of  this 
unattainable  antagonist,  I  would  not  be  beaten.  I  felt  there 
was  still  a  connecting  thread  between  us  in  the  organ  of 
Saint-Louis';  so  on  the  following  Sunday,  before  the  end  of 
High  Mass,  I  took  up  a  post  at  the  door  of  the  organ  loft, 
fully  determined  not  to  let  the  sphinx  go  till  I  had  made  it 
speak. — Here  was  a  fresh  disappointment:  M.  Jacques 
Bricheteau  was  represented  by  one  of  his  pupils,  and  for 
three  Sundays  in  succession  it  was  the  same.  On  the  fourth 
I  ventured  to  speak  to  the  substitute  and  ask  him  if  the 
maestro  were  ill. 

"No,  monsieur.  M.  Bricheteau  is  taking  a  holiday;  he 
will  be  absent  for  some  time,  and  is  away  on  business." 

"Where  then  can  I  write  to  him?" 

"I  do  not  exactly  know.  Still,  I  suppose  that  you  can 
write  to  his  lodgings,  close  at  hand,  Quai  de  Bethune." 

"But  he  has  moved.     Did  you  not  know?" 

"No.     Indeed !  and  where  is  he  now  living  ?" 

I  was  out  of  luck — asking  for  information  from  a  man 
who,  when  I  questioned  him,  questioned  me.  And  as  if  to 
drive  me  fairly  beside  myself,  while  investigating  matters 
under  such  hopeful  conditions,  I  saw  in  the  distance  that  con- 
founded deaf  and  dumb  dwarf,  who  positively  laughed  as  he 
looked  at  me. 

Happily  for  my  impatience  and  curiosity,  which  were  en- 
hance<i  by  every  defeat,  and  rising  by  degrees  to  an  almost 


168  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

intolerable  pitch,  daylight  presently  dawned.  A  few  days 
after  this  last  false  scent,  a  letter  reached  me;  and  I,  a 
better  scholar  than  the  concierge  of  the  Quai  de  Bethune,  at 
once  saw  that  the  postmark  was  Stockholm,  Sweden,  which 
did  not  excessively  astonish  me.  When  in  Eome,  I  had  the 
honor  of  being  kindly  received  by  Thorwaldsen,  the  great 
sculptor,  and  I  had  met  many  of  his  fellow-countrymen  in 
his  studio — some  commission  perhaps,  for  which  he  had 
recommended  me — so  imagine  my  surprise  and  emotion  when, 
on  opening  it,  the  first  words  I  read  were: 

"Monsieur  mon  fils." 

The  letter  was  long,  and  I  had  not  patience  enough  to 
read  it  through  before  looking  to  see  whose  name  I  bore.  So 
I  turned  at  once  to  the  signature.  This  beginning,  Monsieur 
mon  fils,  which  we  often  find  in  history  as  used  by  kings 
when  addressing  their  scions,  must  surely  promise  aristocratic 
parentage! — My  disappointment  was  great:  there  was  no 
signature. 

"Monsieur  mon  fils,"  my  anonymous  father  wrote,  "I  can- 
not regret  that  your  inveterate  determination  to  solve  the 
secret  of  your  birth  should  have  compelled  the  man  who 
watched  over  your  youth  to  come  here  and  confer  with  me 
as  to  the  steps  to  which  we  should  be  compelled  by  this 
dangerous  and  turbulent  curiosity.  I  have  for  a  long  time 
cherished  an  idea  which  has  now  come  to  maturity,  and  it 
has  been  far  more  satisfactorily  discussed  in  speech  than  it 
could  have  been  by  correspondence. 

"Being  obliged  to  leave  France  almost  immediately  after 
your  birth,  which  cost  your  mother  her  life,  I  made  a  large 
fortune  in  a  foreign  land,  and  I  now  fill  a  high  position  in 
the  Government  of  this  country.  I  foresee  a  time  when  I 
may  be  free  to  give  you  my  name,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  secure  for  you  the  reversion  of  the  post  I  hold.  But,  to 
rise  so  high  as  this,  the  celebrity  which,  with  my  permission, 
you  promise  to  achieve  in  Art  would  not  be  a  sufficient 
recommendation.  I  therefore  wish  you  to  enter  on  a  political 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  169 

career;  and  in  that  career,  under  the  existing  conditions  in 
France,  there  are  not  two  ways  of  distinguishing  yourself 
— you  must  be  elected  a  member  of  the  Chamber.  You  are 
not  yet,  I  know,  of  the  required  age,  and  you  have  not  the 
necessary  qualifications.  But  you  will  be  thirty  next  year, 
and  that  is  just  long  enough  to  enable  you  to  become  a  landed 
proprietor  and  prove  your  possession  for  more  than  a  twelve- 
month. On  the  day  after  receiving  this  you  may  call  on  the 
Brothers  Mongenod,  bankers,  Eue  de  la  Victoire;  they  will 
pay  you  a  sum  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs. 
This  you  must  at  once  invest  in  the  purchase  of  a  house,  and 
devote  any  surplus  to  the  support  of  some  newspaper  which, 
in  due  course,  will  advocate  your  election — after  another  out- 
lay is  met  which  I  shall  presently  explain. 

"Your  aptitude  for  politics  is  vouched  for  by  the  friend 
who  has  watched  over  you  in  your  deserted  existence,  with  a 
zeal  and  disinterestedness  that  I  can  never  repay.  He  has  for 
some  time  followed  you  and  listened  to  you,  and  he  is  con- 
vinced that  you  would  make  a  creditable  appearance  in  the 
Chamber.  Your  opinions — Liberal,  and  at  once  moderate 
and  enthusiastic — meet  my  views,  and  you  have,  unconsciously, 
hitherto  played  into  my  hand  very  successfully. 

"I  cannot  at  present  reveal  to  you  the  place  of  your  proba- 
ble election.  It  is  being  prepared  with  a  deep  secrecy  and 
skill  which  -will  be  successful  in  proportion  as  they  are 
wrapped  in  silence  and  darkness.  However,  your  success  may 
be,  perhaps,  partly  insured  by  your  carrying  out  a  work  which 
I  commend  to  your  notice,  advising  you  to  accept  its  apparent 
singularity  without  demur  or  comment.  For  the  present  you 
must  still  be  a  sculptor,  and  you  are  to  employ  the  talent  of 
which  you  have  given  evidence  in  the  execution  of  a  statue 
of  Saint  Ursula. — The  subject  does  not  lack  poetry  or  in- 
terest ;  Saint  Ursula,  virgin  and  martyr,  was,  it  is  generally 
believed,  the  daughter  of  a  prince  of  Great  Britain.  She  was 
martyred  in  the  fifth  century  at  Cologne,  where  she  had 
founded  a  convent  of  maidens  known  to  popular  supersti- 
tion as  the  Eleven  Thousand  Virgins.  She  was  subsequently 


17C  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

taken  as  the  patron  saint  of  the  Ursuline  Sisters  who  adopted 
her  name;  also  of  the  famous  House  of  the  Sorbonne. 

"An  artist  so  clever  as  you  are,  may,  it  seems  to  me,  make 
something  of  all  these  facts. 

"Without  knowing  the  name  of  the  place  you  are  to  repre- 
sent, it  is  desirable  that  you  should  at  once  make  due  profes- 
sion of  your  political  tendencies  and  proclaim  your  intention 
of  standing  for  election.  At  the  same  time,  I  cannot  too  earn- 
estly impress  on  you  the  need  for  secrecy  as  to  this  communi- 
cation, and  for  patience  in  your  present  position.  Leave  my 
agent  in  peace,  I  beg  of  you,  and  setting  aside  a  curiosity 
which,  I  warn  you,  will  involve  you  in  the  greatest  disasters, 
await  the  slow  and  quiet  development  of  the  splendid  future 
that  lies  before  you.  By  not  choosing  to  conform  to  my  ar- 
rangements, you  will  deprive  yourself  of  every  chance  of 
being  initiated  into  the  mystery  you  are  so  eager  to  solve. 
However,  I  will  not  even  suppose  that  you  can  rebel ;  I  would 
rather  believe  in  your  perfect  deference  to  the  wishes  of  a 
father  who  feels  that  the  happiest  day  of  his  life  will  be  that 
when  he  is  at  last  able  to  make  himself  known  to  you. 

"P.S. — As  your  statue  is  intended  for  the  chapel  of  an 
Ursuline  convent,  it  must  be  in  white  marble.  The  height 
of  the  figure  is  to  be  1.706  metre,  or  in  other  words,  five  feet 
three  inches.  As  it  will  not  stand  in  a  niche,  it  must  be 
equally  well  finished  on  all  sides.  The  cost  to  be  defrayed  out 
of  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  advised  by  the 
present  letter." 

The  present  letter  left  me  cold  and  unsatisfied;  it  bereft 
me  of  a  hope  I  had  long  cherished — that  of  some  day  knowing 
a  mother  as  kind  as  yours,  of  whose  adorable  sweetness  you 
often  told  me,  my  dear  friend.  This  was,  after  all,  no  better 
than  twilight  in  the  thick  fog  of  my  life ;  it  did  not  even  tell 
me  whether  I  had  been  born  in  wedlock  or  no.  And  it  also 
struck  me  that,  as  addressed  to  a  man  of  my  age,  there  was 
a  very  imperious  and  despotic  tone  in  the  paternal  instruc- 
tions. Was  it  not  a  strange  act  to  turn  my  life  upside  down 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  171 

— just  as,  at  school,  we  were  made  to  wear  our  coats  inside 
out  as  a  punishment?  My  first  instinct  was  to  address  to 
myself  all  the  arguments  that  you  or  any  other  friend  might 
have  found  to  deny  my  political  vocation. 

However,  curiosit}'  took  me  to  the  bankers;  and  on  finding 
at  Messrs.  Mongenod's,  in  hard  and  ready  cash,  the  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  francs  promised  me,  I  confess  I 
reasoned  differently.  It  struck  me  that  the  determination 
which  began  by  advancing  so  large  a  sum  must  in  fact  be 
serious;  since  that  power  knew  all,  and  I  knew  nothing,  it 
seemed  to  me  unreasonable  and  inopportune  to  attempt  to 
struggle.  After  all,  had  I  any  special  dislike  to  the  path 
pointed  out  to  me?  No.  Political  matters  have  always  in- 
terested me  up  to  a  certain  point;  and  if  my  attempt  to  be 
elected  came  to  nothing,  I  could  come  back  to  my  art,  not 
more  ridiculous  than  a  hundred  other  still-born  ambitions 
that  see  the  light  under  every  new  administration. 

I  bought  the  house,  I  took  shares  in  the  National,  and  I 
found  ample  encouragement  in  my  political  schemes,  as  well 
as  the  certainty  of  a  keen  contest  whenever  I  should  reveal  the 
name  of  the  place  I  meant  to  stand  for — hitherto  I  have  had 
no  difficulty  in  keeping  that  secret. 

I  also  executed  the  "Saint  Ursula,"  and  I  am  now  waiting 
for  further  instructions,  which  certainly  seem  to  me  to  be  a 
long  time  coming,  now  that  I  have  loudly  proclaimed  my  am- 
bitions and  that  the  stir  of  a  general  election  is  in  the  air — 
a  fight  to  which  I  am  by  no  means  equal.  To  obey  the  in- 
structions of  paternal  caution  I  need  not,  I  know,  ask  you 
to  be  absolutely  secret  about  all  I  confide  to  you.  Eeserve  is 
a  virtue  which  I  know  you  to  have  brought  to  such  perfection 
that  I  need  not  preach  it  to  you.  But  I  am  wrong,  my  dear 
friend,  to  allow  myself  any  such  malicious  allusions  to  the 
past,  for  at  this  moment  I  am  under  greater  obligations  to  you 
than  you  fancy.  Partly  out  of  interest  in  me,  no  doubt,  and 
to  a  great  extent  out  of  a  very  general  aversion  for  your 
brother-in-law's  arrogance,  when  I  was  wounded,  the  demo- 
cratic party  came  in  a  body  to  inquire  for  me,  and  the  talk 


172  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

about  this  duel,  which  has  really  helped  to  make  me  famous, 
has  no  doubt  greatly  improved  my  chances  of  election.  So  a 
truce  to  your  perpetual  thanks — <Lo  you  not  see  that  I  have 
to  thank  you? 

Dorlange  to  Marie-Gaston. 

PARIS,  April  1839. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — I  am  still  playing  my  part  as  best  I 
may  of  a  candidate  without  a  constituency.  My  friends  are 
puzzled,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  am  worried,  for  there  are 
but  a  few  weeks  now  till  the  general  election ;  and  if  all  these 
mysterious  preparations  end  in  smoke,  a  pretty  figure  I  shall 
cut  in  the  eyes  of  M.  Bixiou,  whose  spiteful  comments  you  re- 
ported to  me  not  long  ago.  Still,  one  thought  supports  me: 
It  seems  hardly  likely  that  anybody  should  sow  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  francs  in  my  furrow  without  the  definite 
purpose  of  gathering  some  sort  of  crop.  Possibly,  indeed,  if 
I  could  see  the  thing  more  clearly,  this  absence  of  hurry  on  the 
part  of  those  who  are  working  for  me  in  such  a  deliberate 
and  underground  manner  may,  in  fact,  be  the  result  of  perfect 
confidence  in  my  success.  Be  this  as  it  may,  I  am  being  kept, 
in  consequence,  in  a  state  of  idle  expectancy  that  is  a  burden 
to  me ;  riding  a-straddle,  as  it  were,  on  two  lives,  one  on  which 
I  have  as  yet  no  foothold,  and  one  from  which  I  am  not  yet 
quite  free;  I  have  not  the  spirit  to  start  on  any  new  work, 
and  feel  uncommonly  like  a  traveler  who  has  come  much  too 
early  for  his  coach  and  does  not  know  what  to  do  with  himself 
or  where  to  pass  the  spare  time. 

i  You  will  not,  I  believe,  be  sorry  that  I  should  turn  this 
far  niente  to  account  in  favor  of  our  correspondence ;  and,  now 
I  think  of  it,  I  will  recur  to  two  passages  in  your  last  letter  to 
which  at  first  I  was  not  inclined  to  pay  any  particular  atten- 
tion. For  one  thing,  you  warned  me  that  my  political  pre- 
tension? found  no  favor  with  M.  Bixiou ;  and  for  another, 
you  insinuated  that  I  might  find  myself  falling  in  love  with 
Mme.  de  1'Estorade,  if  I  had  not  done  so  already.  First  as  to 
the  Great  Disapprobation  of  M.  Bixiou — we  used  to  say  the 
Great  Treason  of  M.  de  Mirabeau. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  173 

In  one  word  I  will  paint  the  man — M.  Bixiou  is  envious. 
There  was  in  him  unquestionably  the  making  of  a  great  artist ; 
but  in  the  economy  of  his  individuality  the  stomach  has  killed 
the  heart  and  head,  and  by  sheer  subjection  to  sensuous  appe- 
tite he  is  now  for  ever  doomed  to  remain  no  more  than  a  cari- 
caturist, a  man,  that  is  to  say,  who  lives  from  hand  to  mouth, 
discounts  his  talent  in  frittered  work,  real  penal  servitude 
which  enables  the  man  to  live  jovially,  but  brings  him  no 
consideration,  and  promises  him  no  future;  a  man  whose 
talent  is  a  mere  feeble  abortion ;  his  mind  as  much  as  his  face 
is  stamped  with  the  perpetual,  hopeless  grimace  which  human 
instinct  has  always  ascribed  to  the  fallen  angels.  And  just 
as  the  Prince  of  Darkness  attacks  by  preference  the  greatest 
saints,  as  reminding  him  most  sternly  of  the  angelic  heights 
from  which  he  fell,  so  M.  Bixiou  sheds  his  venom  on  every 
talent  and  every  character  in  whose  strength,  and  spirit,  and 
purpose  he  feels  the  brave  resolve  not  to  waste  itself  as  his 
has  been  wasted.  But  there  is  one  thing  which  may  reassure 
you  as  to  the  outcome  of  his  slander  and  his  abuse — for  from 
M.  de  1'Estorade's  report  to  you  I  perceive  that  he  indulges 
in  both :  namely,  at  the  very  time  when  he  fancies  he  is  most 
successfully  occupied  in  a  sort  of  burlesque  autopsy  of  my  per- 
son, he  is  but  a  plastic  puppet  in  my  hands,  a  jumping-jack  of 
which  I  hold  the  string,  and  into  whose  mouth  I  can  put  what 
words  I  please. 

Feeling  sure  that  a  little  advertisement  should  prepare  the 
way  for  my  appearance  as  a  statesman,  I  looked  about  me 
for  some  public  criers,  deep-mouthed,  as  Mme.  Pernelle  would 
say,  and  well  able  to  give  tongue.  If  among  blatant  trum- 
peters I  could  have  found  one  more  shrill,  more  deafeningly 
persistent  than  the  great  Bixiou,  I  would  have  preferred  him. 
I  took  advantage  of  the  malignant  inquisitiveness  that  takes 
that  amiable  pest  into  every  studio  in  turn,  to  fill  himself  up 
with  information.  I  told  him  everything,  of  my  good  luck, 
of  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs,  ascribing  them 
to  a  lucky  turn  on  'Change,  of  all  my  parliamentary  schemes, 
to  the  very  number  of  the  house  I  had  purchased.  And  I  am 


174  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

much  mistaken  if  that  number  is  not  written  down  somewhere 
in  his  notebook. 

This,  I  fancy,  is  enough  to  reduce  the  admiration  of  his 
audience  at  the  Montcornets',  and  prove  that  this  formidable 
magpie  is  not  quite  so  miraculously  informed  on  all  points. 

As  to  my  political  horoscope,  which  he  condescended  to  cast, 
I  cannot  say  that  his  astrology,  strictly  speaking,  is  far  from 
the  truth.  It  is  quite  certain  that  by  announcing  my  inten- 
tion of  never  attempting  to  keep  step  with  other  men's 
opinions  I  shall  attain  to  the  position  so  clearly  set  forth 
by  a  pleader  worthy  to  be  the  successor  of  M.  de  la  Palisse : 
"What  do  you  do,  gentlemen,  to  a  man  whom  you  place  in 
solitary  confinement?  You  isolate  him."  Isolation,  in  fact, 
must  at  first  be  my  lot ;  and  the  life  of  an  artist,  a  solitary  life, 
in  which  a  man  spins  everything  out  of  himself,  has  predis- 
posed me  to  accept  the  situation.  And  if  I  find  myself  in 
consequence — especially  as  a  beginner — exempt  from  all  lobby 
and  backstairs  influences,  this  may  do  me  good  service  as  a 
speaker;  for  I  shall  be  able  to  express  myself  with  unbiased 
strength  and  freedom.  Never  being  bound  by  any  pledge,  by 
any  trumpery  party  interest,  there  will  be  nothing  to  hinder 
me  from  being  myself,  or  from  expressing  in  their  sacred 
crudity  any  ideas  I  think  wholesome  and  true. 

I  know  full  well  that  in  the  face  of  an  assembled  multitude 
these  poor  truths  for  truth's  sake  do  not  always  get  their 
chance  of  becoming  infectious,  or  even  of  being  respectfully 
welcomed.  But  have  you  not  observed  that  by  knowing  how 
to  snatch  an  opportunity  we  sometimes  hit  on  a  day  which 
seems  to  be  a  sort  of  festival  of  sense  and  intelligence,  when 
the  right  thing  triumphs  almost  without  an  effort  ?  On  those 
days,  in  spite  of  the  utmost  prejudice  in  the  hearers,  the 
speaker's  honesty  makes  them  generous  and  sympathetic,  at 
any  rate  for  the  moment,  with  all  that  is  upright,  true,  and 
magnanimous.  At  the  same  time,  I  do  not  deceive  myself; 
though  this  system  of  mine  may  win  me  some  consideration 
and  notoriety  as  an  orator,  it  is  of  very  little  avail  in  the  pur- 
suit of  office,  nor  will  it  gain  me  the  reputation  as  a  practical 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  175 

man  for  which  it  is  now  the  fashion  to  sacrifice  so  much.  But 
if  my  influence  at  arm's  length  should  be  inconsiderable,  1 
shall  be  heard  at  a  distance,  because  I  shall,  for  the  most  part, 
speak  out  of  the  window — outside  the  narrow  and  suffocating 
atmosphere  of  parliamentary  life,  and  over  the  head  of  its 
petty  passions  and  mean  interests. 

This  kind  of  success  will  be  all  I  need  for  the  purposes  my 
benevolent  parent  seems  to  have  in  view.  What  he  appears 
to  aim  at  is  that  I  should  make  a  noise  and  be  heard  afar ;  and 
from  that  side,  political  life  has,  I  declare,  its  artistic  aspect 
which  will  not  too  monstrously  jar  with  my  past  life. 

Now,  to  come  to  another  matter — that  of  my  actual  or 
possible  passion  for  Mme.  de  FEstorade.  This  is  your  very 
judicial  epitome  of  the  case: — In  1837,  when  you  set  out  for 
Italy,  Mme.  de  1'Estorade  was  still  in  the  bloom  of  her  beauty. 
Leading  a  life  so  calm,  so  sheltered  from  passion  as  hers  has 
always  been,  it  is  probable  that  the  lapse  of  two  years  has  left 
no  deep  marks  on  her ;  and  the  proof  that  time  has  stood  still 
for  that  privileged  beauty  you  find  in  my  strange  and  auda- 
cious persistency  in  deriving  inspiration  from  it.  Hence,  if 
the  mischief  is  not  already  done,  at  any  rate  you  will  give  me 
warning;  there  is  but  one  step  from  the  artist's  admiration 
to  the  man's,  and  the  story  of  Pygmalion  is  commended  to  my 
prudent  meditation. 

In  the  first  place,  most  sapient  and  learned  mythologist, 
I  may  make  this  observation :  The  person  principally  inter- 
ested in  the  matter,  who  is  on  the  spot  and  in  a  far  better 
position  than  you  to  estimate  the  perils  of  the  situation,  has 
no  anxiety  on  the  subject.  M.  de  1'Estorade's  only  complaint 
is  that  my  visits  are  not  more  frequent,  and  my  reticence  is, 
in  his  eyes,  pure  bad  manners. — "To  be  sure !"  you  exclaim, 
"a  husband — any  husband — is  the  last  to  suspect  that  his  wife 
is  being  made  love  to !" — So  be  it.  But  what  about  Mme.  de 
1'Estorade,  with  her  high  reputation  for  virtue,  and  the  cold, 
almost  calculating  reasonableness  which  she  so  often  brought 
to  bear  on  the  ardent  and  impassioned  petulance  of  another 
lady  known  to  you?  And  will  you  not  also  allow  that  the 


176  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

love  of  her  children,  carried  to  the  last  degree  of  fervor, 
I  had  almost  said  fanaticism,  that  we  see  in  women,  must  in 
her  be  an  infallible  protection  ?  So  far,  and  for  her,  well  and 
good. 

But  it  is  not  her  peace  of  mind,  but  mine,  that  concerns 
your  friendship ;  for  if  Pygmalion  had  failed  to  animate  his 
statue,  much  good  his  love  would  have  done  him !  I  might, 
in  reply  to  your  charitable  solicitude,  refer  you  to  my  princi- 
ples— though  the  word  and  the  thing  alike  are  completely 
out  of  fashion — to  a  certain  very  absurd  respect  that  I  have 
always  professed  for  conjugal  fidelity,  to  the  very  natural 
obstacle  to  all  such  levity  of  fancy  raised  in  my  mind  by  the 
serious  responsibilities  on  which  I  am  embarking.  And  I 
might  also  say  that,  though  not  indeed  by  the  superiority  of 
my  genius,  at  least  by  every  tendency  of  mind  and  character, 
I  am  one  of  that  earnest  and  serious  school  of  a  past  time 
who,  regarding  Art  as  long,  and  Life  as  short — Ars  longa  et 
vita  brevis — did  not  waste  their  time  and  their  creative  powers 
in  silly,  dull  intrigues. 

But  I  can  do  better  still.  Since  M.  de  1'Estorade  has  spared 
you  no  detail  of  the  really  romantic  circumstances  under 
which  his  wife  and  I  met,  you  know  that  it  was  a  reminiscence 
which  made  me  follow  the  steps  of  such  a  beautiful  model. 
Well,  that  memory,  while  it  attracted  me  in  one  sense  to  the 
fair  Countess,  is  the  very  thing  of  all  others  to  keep  me  at  a 
•distance.  This,  of  course,  seems  to  you  very  elaborate  and 
enigmatical.  But,  patience — and  I  will  explain.  If  you  had 
not  thought  proper  to  cut  the  thread  which  for  so  many  years 
connected  our  lives,  I  should  not  at  this  day  have  so  much 
to  work  over  again;  since,  however,  you  have  made  it  neces- 
sary that  I  should  pay  up  arrears,  you  must,  my  dear  fellow, 
make  the  best  of  my  long  stories,  and  be  a  patient  listener. 

In  1835,  the  last  year  I  spent  in  Eonie,  I  was  on  terms  of 
considerable  intimacy  with  a  French  Academy  student  named 
Desroziers.  He  was  a  musician,  a  man  of  distinguished  and 
observant  mind,  who  would  probably  have  made  a  mark  in  his 
art  if  he  had  not  been  carried  off  by  typhoid  fever  the  year 
after  I  left. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  177 

One  day  when  we  had  taken  it  into  our  heads  that  we  would 
travel  as  far  as  Sicily,  an  excursion  allowed  by  the  rules  of  the 
Academy,  we  found  ourselves  absolutely  penniless,  and  we 
were  wandering  about  the  streets  of  Rome  considering  by 
what  means  we  could  repair  the  damage  to  our  finances,  when 
we  happened  to  pass  by  the  Braschi  palace.  The  doors  stood 
wide  open,  admitting  an  ebb  and  flow  of  people  of  all  classes 
in  an  endless  tide. 

"By  the  Mass!"  cried  Desroziers,  "this  is  the  very  thing 
for  us !" 

And  without  any  explanation  as  to  whither  he  was  leading 
me,  we  followed  in  the  stream  and  made  our  way  into  the 
palace. 

After  going  up  a  magnificent  marble  staircase,  and  through 
a  long  suite  of  rooms,  poorly  enough  furnished — as  is  usual 
in  Eoman  palaces,  where  all  the  luxury  consists  in  fine  ceil- 
ings, pictures,  statues,  and  other  works  of  art — we  found  our- 
selves in  a  room  hung  with  black  and  lighted  with  many 
tapers.  It  was,  as  you  will  have  understood,  a  body  lying  in 
state.  In  the  middle,  on  a  raised  bed  covered  with  a  canopy, 
lay  the  most  hideous  and  grotesque  thing  you  can  conceive  of. 
Imagine  a  little  old  man,  with  a  face  and  hands  withered  to 
such  a  state  of  desiccation  that  a  mummy  by  comparison  would 
seem  fat  and  well-looking.  Dressed  in  black  satin  breeches, 
a  violet  velvet  coat  of  fashionable  cut,  a  white  waistcoat  em- 
broidered with  gold,  and  a  full  shirt  frill  of  English  point  lace, 
this  skeleton's  cheeks  were  thickly  coated  with  rouge,  which 
enhanced  the  parchment  yellow  of  the  rest  of  the  skin;  and 
crowning  a  fair  wig,  tightly  curled,  it  had  a  huge  hat  and 
feathers  tilted  knowingly  over  one  ear,  and  making  the  most 
reverent  spectator  laugh  in  spite  of  himself.  After  glancing 
at  this  ridiculous  and  pitiable  exhibition,  the  indispensable 
preliminary  to  a  funeral  according  to  the  aristocratic  eti- 
quette of  Rome : 

"There  you  see  the  end/'  said  Desroziers.  "Now,  come  and 
look  at  the  beginning." 

So  saying,  and  paying  no  heed  to  my  questions,  because  ho 


178  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

wanted  to  give  me  a  dramatic  surprise,  he  led  me  off  to  the 
Albani  gallery,  and  placing  me  in  front  of  a  statue  of  Adonis 
reclining  on  a  lion's  skin : 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  said  he. 

"That !"  cried  I  at  a  first  glance ;  "it  is  as  fine  as  an  an- 
tique." 

"It  is  as  much  an  antique  as  I  am,"  replied  Desroziers, 
and  he  pointed  to  a  signature  on  the  plinth:  "Sarrasine, 
1758." 

"Antique  or  modern,  it  is  a  masterpiece,"  I  said,  when  I 
had  studied  this  delightful  work  from  all  sides.  "But  how  are 
this  fine  statue  and  the  terrible  caricature  you  took  me  to  see 
just  now  to  help  us  on  our  way  to  Sicily  ?" 

"In  your  place,  I  should  have  begun  by  asking  who  and 
what  was  Sarrasine." 

"That  was  unnecessary,"  replied  I.  "I  had  already  heard 
of  this  statue.  I  had  forgotten  it  again,  because  when  I  came 
to  see  it  the  Albani  gallery  was  closed  for  repairs — as  they 
say  of  the  theatres.  Sarrasine,  I  was  informed,  was  a  pupil 
of  Bouchardon's,  and,  like  us,  a  pensioner  on  the  King  of 
Rome,  where  he  died  within  six  months  of  his  arrival." 

"But  who  or  what  caused  his  death?" 

"Some  illness  probably,"  replied  I,  never  dreaming  that  my 
reply  was  prophetic  of  the  end  of  the  man  I  was  addressing. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Desroziers.  "Artists  don't  die  in  such 
an  idiotic  way." 

And  he  gave  me  the  following  details. 

Sarrasine,  a  youth  of  genius,  but  of  ungovernable  passions, 
almost  as  soon  as  he  arrived  in  Rome,  fell  madly  in  love 
with  the  principal  soprano  at  the  Argentina,  whose  name 
was  Zambinella.  At  that  time  the  Pope  would  not  allow 
women  to  appear  on  the  stage  in  Rome.  The  difficulty  was 
overcome  by  means  well  known,  and  imported  from  the  East. 
Sarrasine,  in  his  fury  at  finding  his  love  thus  cheated,  having 
already  executed  an  imaginary  statue  of  this  imaginary  mis- 
tress, was  on  the  point  of  killing  himself.  But  the  singer 
was  under  the  protection  of  a  great  personage,  who,  to  be  be- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  179 

forehand  with  him,  had  cooled  the  sculptor's  blood  by  a 
few  pricks  of  the  stiletto.  Zambinella  had  not  approved  of 
this  violence,  but  nevertheless  continued  to  sing  at  the  Argen- 
tina and  on  every  stag^  in  Europe,  amassing  a  splendid  for- 
tune. 

When  too  old  to  remain  on  the  stage,  the  singer  shrank 
into  a  little  old  man,  very  vain,  very  shy,  but  as  wilful  and 
capricious  as  a  woman.  All  the  affection  of  which  he  was 
capable  he  bestowed  on  a  wonderfully  beautiful  niece,  whom 
he  placed  at  the  head  of  his  household.  She  was  the  Madame 
Denis  of  this  strange  Voltaire,  and  he  intended  that  she 
should  inherit  his  vast  wealth.  The  handsome  heiress,  in  love 
with  a  Frenchman  named  the  Comte  de  Lanty,  who  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  highly  skilled  chemist,  though,  in  fact,  little  was 
known  of  his  antecedents,  had  great  difficulty  in  obtaining 
her  uncle's  consent  to  her  marriage  with  the  man  of  her 
choice.  And  when,  weary  of  disputing  the  matter,  he  gave  in, 
it  was  on  condition  of  not  parting  from  his  niece.  The  better 
to  secure  the  fulfilment  of  the  bargain,  he  gave  her  nothing 
on  her  marriage,  parting  with  none  of  his  fortune,  which  he 
spent  liberally  on  all  who  were  about  him. 

Bored  wherever  he  found  himself,  and  driven  by  a  per- 
petual longing  for  change,  the  fantastic  old  man  had  at  dif- 
ferent times  taken  up  his  abode  in  the  remotest  parts  of  the 
world,  always  dragging  at  his  heels  the  family  party  whose 
respect  and  attachment  he  had  secured  at  least  for  life. 

In  1829,  when  he  was  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  and  had 
sunk  into  a  sort  of  imbecility — though  still  keenly  alive  when 
he  listened  to  music — a  question  of  some  interest  to  the 
Lantys  and  their  two  children  brought  them  to  settle  in  a 
splendid  house  in  the  Faubourg  Saint-Honore.  They  there 
received  all  Paris.  The  world  was  attracted  by  the  still  splen- 
did beauty  of  Madame  de  Lanty,  the  innocent  charm  of  her 
daughter  Marian ina,  the  really  royal  magnificence  of  their  en- 
tertainments, and  a  peculiar  flavor  of  mystery  in  the  atmos- 
phere about  these  remarkable  strangers.  With  regard  to 
the  old  man  particularly,  comments  were  endless;  he  was 


180  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

the  object  of  so  much  care  and  consideration,  but  at  the  same 
time  so  like  a  petted  captive,  stealing  out  like  a  spectre  into 
the  midst  of  the  parties,  from  which  such  obvious  efforts 
were  made  to  keep  him  away,  while  he  seemed  to  find  mali- 
cious enjoyment  in  scaring  the  company,  like  an  apparition. 

The  gunshots  of  July  1830  put  this  phantom  to  flight.  On 
leaving  Paris,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  Lantys,  he  in- 
sisted on  returning  to  Eome,  his  native  city,  where  his  pres- 
ence had  revived  the  humiliating  memories  of  the  past.  But 
Rome  was  his  last  earthly  stage ;  he  had  just  died  there,  and  it 
was  he  whom  we  had  seen  so  absurdly  dressed  out  and  lying 
in  state  in  the  Braschi  palace — he  also  on  whom  we  now 
looked,  in  all  his  youthful  beauty,  in  the  Albani  collection. 

These  details,  given  me  by  Desroziers,  were  no  doubt  curi- 
ous, and  a  more  dramatic  contrast  was,  in  truth,  inconceiv- 
able ;  still,  how  would  it  help  us  visit  Sicily  ?  That  was  the 
question. 

"You  have  skill  enough  to  make  a  copy  of  this  statue,  I 
suppose?"  said  Desroziers. 

"At  any  rate,  I  like  to  think  so." 

"Well,  I  am  sure  of  it.  Get  leave  from  the  curator,  and 
set  to  work  forthwith.  I  know  of  a  purchaser  for  such  a 
copy." 

"Why,  who  will  buy  it  ?" 

"The  Comte  de  Lanty,  to  be  sure.  I  am  giving  his  daughter 
lessons  in  harmony ;  and  when  I  mention  in  his  house  that  I 
know  of  a  fine  copy  of  this  Adonis,  they  will  never  rest  till  it 
belongs  to  them." 

"But  does  not  this  savor  somewhat  of  extortion?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  Some  time  since  the  Lantys  had  a 
painting  done  of  it  by  Vien,  as  they  could  not  purchase  the 
marble;  the  Albani  gallery  would  not  part  with  it  at  any 
price.  Various  attempts  have  been  made  at  reproducing  it 
in  sculpture,  but  all  have  failed.  You  have  only  to  succeed, 
and  you  will  be  paid  enough  for  forty  trips  to  Sicily,  for  you 
will  have  gratified  a  whim  which  has  become  hopeless,  and 
which,  when  the  price  is  paid,  will  still  think  itself  your 
debtor." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  181 

Two  days  later  I  had  begun  the  work;  and  as  it  was  quite 
to  my  mind,  I  went  011  so  steadily  that,  three  weeks  later,  the 
Lanty  family,  all  in  deep  mourning,  invaded  my  studio,  under 
Desroziers'  guidance,  to  inspect  a  sketch  in  a  forward  stage  of 
completion.  M.  de  Lanty  seemed  to  know  what  he  was  about, 
and  he  declared  himself  satisfied.  Marianina,  who,  as  her 
grand-uncle's  favorite,  had  been  especially  benefited  under  his 
will,  seemed  delighted  with  what  I  had  done. 

Marianina  was  at  that  time  one-and-twenty.  I  need  not 
describe  her,  since  you  know  Mme.  de  FEstorade,  whom  she 
strikingly  resembles.  This  charming  girl,  already  an  accom- 
plished musician,  had  a  remarkable  talent  for  every  form 
of  art.  Coming  from  time  to  time  to  my  studio  to  follow  the 
progress  of  my  work — which,  after  all,  was  never  finished,  as 
it  happened— she,  like  Princess  Marguerite  d'Orleans,  took 
a  fancy  for  sculpture,  and  until  the  family  left  Eome — some 
months  before  I  had  come  away — Mile,  de  Lanty  came  to  me 
for  lessons.  Nothing  could  be  further  from  my  thoughts 
than  any  idea  of  playing  the  part  of  Abelard  or  Saint-Preux, 
but  I  may  say  I  was  most  happy  in  my  teaching.  My  pupil 
was  so  intelligent,  and  so  apt  to  profit  by  the  slightest  hint; 
she  had  at  once  such  a  bright  temper  and  such  ripe  judgment ; 
her  voice,  when  she  sang,  went  so  straight  to  the  heart ;  and  I 
heard  so  constantly  from  the  servants,  who  adored  her,  of  her 
noble,  generous,  and  charitable  actions,  that,  but  for  my 
knowing  of  her  vast  fortune,  which  kept  me  at  a  distance,  I 
might  have  run  into  the  danger  you  are  warning  me  to  avoid 
now. 

Marianina  on  her  part  found  my  teaching  luminous.  I  was 
ere  long  received  in  the  house  on  a  somewhat  familiar  footing, 
and  I  could  easily  see  that  my  beautiful  pupil  took  some 
pleasure  in  my  conversation.  When  the  question  arose  of 
the  whole  family  returning  to  live  in  Paris,  she  suddenly 
discovered  that  Eome  was  a  delightful  residence,  and  ex- 
pressed real  regret  at  leaving;  nay,  Heaven  forgive  me  if, 
when  we  parted,  there  was  not  the  glitter  of  a  tear  in  her  eye. 

On  my  return  to  Paris,  my  first  visit  was  to  the  Hotel 
Lanty. 


188  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Marianina  was  too  well  bred,  and  too  sweet  by  nature,  ever 
to  make  herself  disagreeable  or  to  be  scornful ;  but  I  at  once 
perceived  that  a  singularly  cold  reserve  had  taken  the  place 
of  the  graoious  and  friendly  freedom  of  her  manner.  It  struck 
me  as  probable  that  the  liking  she  had  shown  me — not,  in- 
deed, for  my  person,  but  for  my  mind  and  conversation — had 
been  commented  on  by  her  family.  She  had  no  doubt  been 
lectured,  and  she  seemed  to  me  to  be  acting  under  strict 
orders,  as  I  could  easil}7  conclude  from  the  distant  and  repel- 
lent manner  of  M.  and  Mme.  de  Lanty. 

A  few  months  later,  at  the  Salon  of  1837,  I  fancied  I  saw 
a  corroboration  of  my  suspicions.  I  had  exhibited  a  statue 
which  made  some  sensation ;  there  was  always  a  mob  round  my 
Pandora.  Mingling  with  the  crowd  I  used  to  stand  incognito, 
to  enjoy  my  success  and  gather  my  laurels  fresh.  One 
Friday,  the  fashionable  day,  I  saw  from  afar  the  approach  of 
the  Lanty  family.  The  mother  was  on  the  arm  of  a  well- 
known  "buck,"  Comte  Maxime  de  Trailles;  Marianina  was 
with  her  brother ;  M.  de  Lanty,  who  looked  anxious,  as  usual, 
was  alone;  and,  like  the  man  in  the  song  of  Malbrouck, 
"ne  portait  rien"  carried  nothing.  By  a  crafty  manoeuvre, 
while  the  party  were  pushing  their  way  through  the  crowd,  I 
slipped  behind  them  so  as  to  hear  what  they  thought,  without 
being  seen.  Nil  admirari — think  nothing  fine — is  the  natural 
instinct  of  every  man  of  fashion ;  so,  after  a  summary  inspec- 
tion of  my  work,  M.  de  Trailles  began  to  discover  the  most 
atrocious  faults,  and  his  verdict  was  pronounced  in  a  loud 
and  distinct  voice,  so  that  his  dictum  could  not  be  lost  on 
anybody  for  some  little  distance  round.  Marianina,  thinking 
differently,  listened  to  this  profound  critic  with  a  shrug  or 
two  of  her  shoulders ;  then  when  he  ceased : 

"How  fortunate  it  is  !"  said  she,  "that  you  should  have  come 
with  us !  But  for  your  enlightened  judgment  I  should  have 
been  quite  capable,  like  the  good-natured  vulgar,  of  thinking 
this  statue  beautiful.  It  is  really  a  pity  that  the  sculptor 
should  not  be  here  to  learn  his  business  from  you." 

"But  that  is  just  where  lie  is,  as  it  happens,  behind  you/' 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  183 

said  a  stout  woman,  with  a  loud  shout  of  laughter — an  old 
woman  who  kept  carriages  for  hire,  and  to  whom  I  had  just 
nodded  as  the  owner  of  the  house  in  which  I  have  my  studio. 

Instinct  was  prompter  than  reflection;  Marianina  invol- 
untarily turned  round.  On  seeing  me,  a  faint  blush  colored 
her  face.  I  hastily  made  my  escape. 

A  girl  who  could  so  frankly  take  my  part,  and  then  betray 
so  much  confusion  at  being  discovered  in  her  advocacy,  would 
certainly  not  be  displeased  to  see  me;  and  though  at  my  first 
visit  I  had  been  so  coldly  received,  having  now  been  made 
Chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  in  recognition  of  my  ex- 
hibited work,  I  determined  to  try  again.  The  distinction 
conferred  on  me  might  possibly  gain  me  a  better  reception 
from  the  haughty  Comte  de  Lanty. 

I  was  admitted  by  an  old  servant  for  whom  Marianina  had 
great  regard. 

"Ah,  monsieur,"  said  he,  "terrible  things  have  been  happen- 
ing here !" 

"Why — what?"  cried  I  anxiously. 

"I  will  take  in  your  name,  sir,"  was  his  only  reply. 

A  minute  later  I  was  shown  into  M.  de  Lanty's  study. 

The  man  received  me  without  rising,  and  greeted  me  with 
these  words: 

"I  admire  your  courage,  monsieur,  in  showing  yourself  in 
this  house!" 

"But  I  have  not  been  treated  here,  as  yet,  in  a  way  that 
should  make  me  need  any  great  courage." 

"You  have  come,  no  doubt,"  M.  de  Lanty  went  on,  "to  fetch 
the  object  you  so  clumsily  allowed  to  fall  into  our  hands.  I 
will  return  you  that  elegant  affair." 

He  rose  and  took  out  of  his  writing-table  drawer  a  dainty 
little  pocket-l5ook,  which  he  handed  to  me. 

As  I  looked  at  it  in  blank  amazement : 

"Oh,  the  letters,  to  be  sure,  are  not  there,"  he  said.  "I 
supposed  that  you  would  allow  me  to  keep  them." 

"This  pocket-book — letters? — The  whole  thing  is  a  riddle 
to  me,  monsieur." 


184  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

At  this  moment  Mme.  de  Lanty  came  in. 

"What  do  you  want  ?"  asked  her  husband  roughly. 

"I  heard  that  M.  Dorlange  was  here,"  said  she,  "and  I  fan- 
cied that  there  might  be  some  unpleasant  passages  between 
you  and  him.  I  thought  it  my  duty,  as  a  wife,  to  interpose." 

"Your  presence,  madame,"  said  I,  "is  not  needed  to  impose 
perfect  moderation  on  me;  the  whole  thing  is  the  result  of 
some  misunderstanding." 

•  "Oh,  this  is  really  too  much !"  cried  M.  de  Lanty,  going 
again  to  the  drawer  from  which  he  had  taken  the  pocket- 
book.    And  rudely  pushing  into  my  hands  a  little  packet  of 
'  letters  tied  up  with  pink  ribbon,  he  went  on :  "Now,  I  imagine 
the  misunderstanding  will  be  cleared  up." 

I  looked  at  the  letters ;  they  had  not  been  through  the  post, 
and  were  all  addressed  "A  Monsieur  Dorlange,"  in  a  woman's 
writing  perfectly  unknown  to  me. 

"Indeed,  monsieur/'  said  I  coldly,  "you  are  better  informed 
than  I  am.  You  have  in  your  possession  letters  which  seem 
to  belong  to  me,  but  which  have  never  reached  me." 

"On  my  word !"  cried  M.  de  Lanty,  "it  must  be  confessed 
that  you  are  an  admirable  actor.  I  never  saw  innocence  and 
amazement  more  successfully  assumed." 

But,  while  he  was  speaking,  Mme.  de  Lanty  had  cleverly 
contrived  to  place  herself  behind  her  husband;  and  by  a 
perfectly  intelligible  pantomime  of  entreaty,  she  besought 
me  to  accept  the  situation  I  was  so  strenuously  denying.  My 
honor  was  too  deeply  implicated,  and  I  really  saw  too  little  of 
what  I  might  be  doing,  to  feel  inclined  to  surrender  at  once. 
So,  with  the  hope  of  feeling  my  way  a  little,  I  said : 

"But,  monsieur,  from  whom  are  these  letters?  Who  ad- 
dressed them  to  me?" 

"From  whom  are  the  letters  ?"  exclaimed  M.  de  Lanty,  in  a 
tone  in  which  irony  was  merged  in  indignation. 

"Denial  is  useless,  monsieur,"  Madame  de  Lanty  put  in. 
"Marianina  has  confessed  everything." 

"Mademoiselle  Marianina  wrote  those  letters-  A.O  me?"  re- 
plied I.  "Then  there  is  a  simple  issue  to  tb>  matter;  con- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  185 

front  her  with  me.  From  her  lips  I  will  accept  the  most 
improbable  statements  as  true." 

"The  trick  is  gallant  enough,"  retorted  M.  de  Lanty.  "But 
Marianina  is  110  longer  here ;  she  is  in  a  convent,  sheltered  for 
ever  from  your  audacity  and  from  the  temptations  of  her 
ridiculous  passion.  If  this  is  what  you  came  to  learn,  now 
you  know  it. — That  is  enough,  for  I  will  not  deny  that  my 
patience  and  moderation  have  limits,  if  your  impudence  knows 
none." 

"Monsieur!"  cried  I,  in  great  excitement. 

But  when  I  saw  that  Mme.  de  Lanty  was  ready  to  drop  on 
her  knees  to  entreat  me,  it  struck  me  that  perhaps  Maria- 
nina's  future  fate  might  depend  on  my  conduct  now.  Besides, 
M.  de  Lanty  was  slight  and  frail,  he  was  near  sixty  years  of 
age,  and  seemed  thoroughly  convinced  of  this  imaginary 
outrage;  so  I  said  no  more  in  reply  to  his  insulting  speech, 
and  left  without  any  further  words. 

I  hoped  that  I  might  find  the  old  servant  who  had  given 
me  warning  of  this  scene,  on  my  way  as  I  went  out,  and  obtain 
some  explanation  from  him;  but  I  did  not  see  him,  and  was 
left,  with  no  light  whatever,  to  an  indefinite  variety  of  sup- 
positions. 

I  was  but  just  up  next  morning  when  I  was  told  that  M. 
1'Abbe  Fontanon  wished  to  see  me.  I  desired  that  he  should 
be  shown  in,  and  presently  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a 
tall  old  man,  of  a  bilious  complexion,  and  a  gloomy,  stern 
expression,  who,  conscious  perhaps  of  his  forbidding  appear- 
ance, tried  to  remedy  it  by  the  refinement  of  excessive  polite- 
ness and  an  affectation  of  honeyed  but  frigid  servility. 

As  soon  as  he  was  seated,  he  began : 

"Monsieur,  Mme.  la  Comtesse  de  Lanty  does  me  the  honor 
of  accepting  me  as  the  keeper  of  her  conscience.  From  her 
I  have  heard  of  a  scene  that  took  place  yesterday  between  you 
and  her  husband.  Prudence  would  not  at  the  time  allow  of 
her  giving  some  explanations  to  which  you  have  an  undoubted 
right,  and  I  have  undertaken  to  communicate  them  to  you ; — 
that  is  the  reason  of  my  presence  here." 


186  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"I  am  listening,  sir/'  was  all  I  replied. 

"Some  weeks  ago/'  the  priest  went  on,  "M.  de  Lanty  pur- 
chased an  estate  in  the  neighborhood  of  Paris,  and  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  fine  weather  to  go  thither  with  his  family.  M. 
de  Lanty  sleeps  badly ;  one  night  when  he  was  lying  awake  in 
the  dark,  he  fancied  he  heard  footsteps  below  his  window, 
which  he  at  once  opened,  calling  out,  'Who's  there?'  in  em- 
phatic tones,  to  the  nocturnal  visitor  he  suspected.  Nor  was 
he  mistaken,  there  was  somebody  there — somebody  who  made 
no  answer,  but  took  to  his  heels,  two  pistol  shots  fired  by  M. 
de  Lanty  having  no  effect.  At  first  it  was  supposed  that  the 
stranger  was  bent  on  robbery;  this,  however,  did  not  seem 
likely;  the  house  was  not  fnrnished,  the  owners  had  only  the 
most  necessary  things  for  a  short  stay ;  thieves,  consequently, 
who  generally  are  well  informed,  could  not  expect  to  find 
anything  of  value:  and  besides,  some  information  reached 
M.  de  Lanty  which  gave  his  suspicions  another  direction. — He 
was  told  that,  two  days  after  his  arrival,  a  fine  young  man 
had  taken  a  bedroom  in  an  inn  at  the  neighboring  village ;  that 
this  gentleman  seemed  anxious  to  keep  out  of  sight,  and  had 
several  times  gone  out  at  night ;  so  not  a  robber  evidently — 
but  a  lover." 

"I  have  never  met  with  a  romancer,  M.  le  Abbe,"  said  I, 
"who  told  his  story  in  better  style." 

By  this  not  very  complimentary  insinuation,  I  hoped  to 
induce  the  speaker  to  abridge  his  story ;  for,  as  you  may  sup- 
pose, I  wanted  to  hear  the  end. 

"My  romance  is,  unfortunately,  painful  fact,"  replied  he. 
"You  will  see. — M.  de  Lanty  had  for  some  time  been  watching 
his  daughter,  whose  vehement  passions  must,  he  feared,  ere 
long  result  in  an  explosion.  You,  yourself,  monsieur,  had  in 
Rome  given  him  some  uneasiness " 

"Quite  gratuitous,  M.  le  Abbe,"  I  put  in. 

"Yes.  I  know  that  in  all  your  acquaintance  with  Mile, 
de  Lanty  your  behavior  has  been  perfectly  correct.  And, 
indeed,  their  leaving  Rome  put  an  end  to  this  first  ground 
for  uneasiness ;  but  in  Paris  another  figure  seemea  to  fill  her 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  187 

young  mind,  and  day  after  day  M.  de  Lanty  proposed  coming 
to  some  explanation  with  his  daughter.  The  man  who  seems 
to  have  captured  her  is  audacious,  enterprising,  quite  capable 
of  running  serious  risks  if  he  could  but  compromise  an  heiress. 
But  on  being  questioned  as  to  whether  by  any  levity  of  manner 
she  had  encouraged  or  given  cause  for  the  daring  invasion 
of  which  they  were  seeking  the  perpetrator,  Mile,  de  Lanty's 
manner  showed  her  to  be  quite  above  suspicion." 

"I  could  have  sworn  to  it !"  cried  I. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  the  Abbe.  "A  maid  was  then  ac- 
cused, and  desired  to  leave  the  house  at  once.  This  woman's' 
father  is  a  violent-tempered  man,  and  if  she  returned  home 
charged  with  anything  so  disgraceful,  she  would  meet  with 
ruthless  severity  of  treatment.  Mile,  de  Lanty — that  much 
justice  I  must  do  her — had  a  Christian  impulse ;  she  could  not 
allow  an  innocent  person  to  be  punished  in  her  stead;  she 
threw  herself  at  her  father's  feet,  and  confessed  that  the  noc- 
turnal visit  had  been  for  her;  and  though  she  had  not  author- 
ized it,  she  was  not  altogether  surprised. 

"M.  de  Lanty  at  once  named  the  supposed  culprit ;  but  she 
would  not  admit  that  he  had  guessed  rightly,  though  she  re- 
fused to  mention  any  other  name  instead.  The  whole  day 
was  spent  in  altercation;  M.  de  Lanty  at  last  gave  up  the 
struggle,  desiring  his  wife  to  try  what  she  could  do  where  he 
had  failed.  He  thought,  and  with  reason,  that  there  might  be 
more  freedom  and  candor  between  the  mother  and  daughter. 

"In  point  of  fact,  alone  with  Mme.  de  Lanty,  Marianina  at 
length  confessed  that  her  father's  suspicions  were  correct. 
At  the  same  time,  she  gave  a  reason  for  her  obstinate  reserve, 
which  certainly  deserved  consideration.  The  man  whose  au- 
dacity she  had  encouraged  had  fought  and  won  in  several  duels. 
By  birth  he  is  the  equal  of  M.  de  Lanty  and  his  son ;  he  moves 
in  the  same  society,  and  consequently  they  frequently  meet. 
Hence  the  greatest  disasters  might  ensue.  How  could  the 
father  or  brother  endure  the  man's  presence  without  demand- 
ing satisfaction  for  conduct  so  insulting  to  the  honor  of  the 
family? — What  then  was  to  be  done?  It  was  the  imprudent 


188  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

girl  herself  who  suggested  the  idea  of  giving  a  name  which, 
while  justifying  M.  de  Lanty's  fury,  would  not  cry  to  him  for 
vengeance/' 

"I  understand,"  I  interrupted.  "The  name  of  a  man  of  no 
birth,  a  person  .of  no  consequence,  an  artist  perhaps,  a 
sculptor,  or  some  such  low  fellow — 

"I  think,  monsieur,"  said  the  Abbe,  "that  you  are  ascribing 
to  Mademoiselle  de  Lanty  a  feeling  to  which  she  is  quite  a 
stranger.  In  my  opinion  her  love  of  the  arts  is  only  too 
strongly  pronounced,  and  that  perhaps  is  what  has  led  to  this 
•unfortunate  laxity  of  imagination.  The  thing  that  made  her 
take  refuge  in  the  use  of  your  name  from  the  risks  she  foresaw 
was  her  recollection  of  the  suspicions  M.  de  Lanty  had  already 
expressed;  she  thought  of  you  as  the  most  likely  seeming 
accomplice,  and  I  am  sure  I  may  say  that  she  saw  nothing 
beyond." 

"And  then,  M.  1'Abbe,  what  about  the  pocket-book — the 
letters — which  played  so  strange  a  part  in  yesterday's  scene  ?" 

"That  again  was  a  device  of  Marianina's ;  and  though,  as  it 
has  turned  out,  the  strange  inventiveness  of  her  wit  has  had  a 
good  result,  it  was  this  in  her  character  which,  if  she  had 
remained  in  the  world,  would  have  given  cause  for  uneasiness. 
When  once  she  and  Mme.  de  Lanty  had  agreed  that  you  were 
to  be  the  night-prowler,  the  statement  had  to  be  supported  by 
evidence  to  favor  its  success.  Instead  of  words,  this  terrible 
young  lady  determined  to  act  in  that  sense.  She  spent  the 
night  in  writing  the  letters  you  saw.  She  used  different  kinds 
of  paper,  ink  of  which  she  altered  the  tone,  and  she  carefully 
varied  the  writing ;  she  forgot  nothing.  Having  written  them, 
she  placed  them  in  a  pocket-book  her  father  had  never  seen; 
and  then,  after  having  made  a  hunting  dog  smell  it  all  over — 
a  dog  noted  for  its  intelligence  and  allowed  in  the  house — 
she  threw  the  whole  thing  into  a  clump  of  shrubs  in  the  park, 
and  came  back  to  endure  her  father's  angry  cross-examination. 

"The  same  sharp  contest  had  begun  once  more  when  the 
dog  came  in  carrying  the  pocket-book  to  his  young  mistress. 
She  acted  agonized  alarm;  M.  de  Lanty  pounced  on  the  cb- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  189 

ject,  and  to  him  everything  was  clear — he  was  deluded  as 
had  been  intended." 

"And  all  these  details/'  said  I,  with  no  great  air  of  cre- 
dulity, "were  reported  to  you  by  Mme.  de  Lanty?" 

"Confided  to  me,  monsieur,  and  you  yourself  had  proof 
yesterday  of  their  exactitude.  Your  refusal  to  recognize  the 
situation  might  have  undone  everything,  and  that  was  why 
Mme.  de  Lanty  interposed.  She  desires  me  to  thank  you  for 
your  connivance — passive  connivance  at  any  rate — in  this 
pious  fraud.  She  thought  she  could  do  no  less  than  show  her 
gratitude  by  putting  you  in  possession  of  her  secret  and 
trusting  to  your  silence." 

"And  Mademoiselle  Marianina  ?"  I  asked. 

"As  M.  de  Lanty  told  you,  she  was  immediately  sent  away 
to  a  convent  in  Italy.  To  avoid  any  scandal,  she  is  said  to 
have  had  a  sudden  call  to  the  religious  life.  Her  future  pros- 
pects will  depend  on  the  attitude  she  chooses  to  assume." 

Even  if  my  self-respect  had  not  been  so  aggrieved  by  this 
story — if  it  were  true — I  should  have  felt  some  doubts,  for 
does  it  not  strike  you  as  rather  too  romantic?  However,  an 
explanation  has  since  offered  itself,  which  may  afford  a  clue 
to  the  facts.  Not  long  ago  Marianina's  brother  married  into 
the  family  of  a  German  Grand-Duke.  The  Lantys  must  have 
had  to  sacrifice  immense  sums  to  achieve  such  an  alliance. 
May  not  Marianina  have  paid  the  expenses  of  this  royal  alli- 
ance, since  she,  by  her  grand-uncle's  will,  had  the  bulk  of  his 
fortune,  and  was  disinherited  by  taking  the  veil  ?  Or  again, 
may  she  not  have  really  felt  for  me  the  affection  expressed  in 
her  letters,  and  have  been  childish  enough  to  write  them, 
though  she  would  not  go  so  far  as  to  send  them  ?  Some  mis- 
chance may  have  led  to  their  discovery,  and  then  to  punish 
her — not  for  having  written,  but  for  having  thought  so — she 
was  shut  up  in  a  convent;  and  to  disgust  me  with  her,  this 
got-up  story  of  another  lover  was  invented  for  my  benefit,  in 
which  I  am  made  to  play  the  part  of  lightning-conductor. 

I  can  believe  anything  of  these  Lantys.  The  head  of  the 
family  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  very  deep  and  crafty  char- 


190  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

acter,  capable  at  a  pinch  of  the  blackest  designs;  and  then, 
if  you  remember  that  these  people  have  all  their  lives  slept,  as 
it  were,  on  the  secret  knowledge  of  a  fortune  so  ignobly  earned, 
is  it  not  conceivable  that  they  should  be  ripe  for  any  kind  of 
intrigues,  or  can  you  imagine  them  dainty  in  their  choice  of 
means  to  an  end  ? 

And  I  may  add  that  the  official  intervention  of  the  Abbe 
Fontanon  justifies  the  worst  imputations.  I  have  made  in- 
quiries about  him ;  he  is  one  of  those  mischief -making  priests 
who  are  always  eager  to  have  a  finger  in  private  family  af- 
fairs; and  it  was  he  who  helped  to  upset  the  home  of  M.  de 
Granville,  Attorney-General  in  Paris  under  the  Restoration. 

Whatever  may  be  true  or  false  in  all  my  hypotheses,  I  have 
no  means  of  knowing,  and  am  not  likely  to  learn,  at  any  rate 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  But,  as  you  may  suppose,  the 
thought  of  Marianina,  like  a  vision  floating  above  this  chaos, 
is  to  me  a  spot  of  light  which,  in  spite  of  myself,  attracts  my 
gaze.  May  I  love  her?  Must  I  hate  and  despise  her? — This 
is  the  question  I  ask  myself  daily;  and  under  the  shroud  of 
such  uncertainty  the  memory  of  a  woman  is,  it  seems  to  me, 
more  likely  to  become  permanent  than  to  fade. 

And  is  it  not  a  really  diabolical  coincidence  that  my  chisel 
should  be  called  upon  to  execute  a  pale  daughter  of  the 
cloister  ?  Under  these  circumstances  was  not  my  imagination 
inevitably  memory;  could  I  invent  any  image  but  that  which 
possesses  my  soul  and  is  so  deeply  graven  on  my  brain  ?  And 
behold !  a  second  Marianina  rises  up  before  me  in  the  flesh ; 
and  when,  for  the  better  furtherance  of  the  work,  the  artist 
takes  advantage  of  this  stroke  of  fortune,  he  must  be  supposed, 
forsooth,  to  have  transferred  his  affections.  Could  that  frigid 
Mme.  de  1'Estorade  ever  fill  the  place  of  my  enchanting  pupil 
with  the  added  charm  and  halo  of  forbidden  fruit  and  of 
mystery  ?  In  short,  you  must  give  up  all  your  imaginings. 

The  other  day  I  was  within  an  ace  of  relating  the  whole 
romance  of  Mademoiselle  de  Lanty  to  her  supposed  rival. 
And  if  I  really  aspired  to  this  woman's  favor — but  she  can 
love  no  one  but  her  children — a  pretty  way  of  courting  her 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  191 

it  would  be,  I  may  say,  to  tell  her  that  little  tale.  And  so,  to 
return  to  our  starting-point,  I  care  no  more  for  M.  Bixiou's 
opinion  than  for  last  year's  roses.  And  so,  I  really  do  not 
know  whether  I  am  in  love  with  Marianina;  but  I  am  quite 
sure  that  I  am  not  in  love  with  Madame  de  1'Estorade.  This, 
it  seems  to  me,  is  a  plain  and  honest  answer. 

Now,  let  us  leave  things  to  the  Future,  who  is  the  master 
of  us  all. 

The  Comtesse  de  1'Estorade  to  Madame  Octave  de  Camps. 

PARIS,  April  1839. 

MY  DEAR  MADAME, — M.  Dorlange  came  last  evening  to  take 
leave  of  us.  He  is  starting  to-day  for  Arcis-sur-Aube,  where 
he  is  to  see  his  statue  set  up  in  its  place.  That  also  is  the 
town  where  the  Opposition  are  about  to  propose  him  as  their 
candidate.  M.  de  1'Estorade  declares  that  no  worse  choice 
could  have  been  made,  and  that  he  has  not  a  chance  of  being 
elected ; — but  this  is  not  what  I  have  to  write  about. 

M.  Dorlange  called  early  after  dinner.  I  was  alone,  for  M. 
de  1'Estorade  was  dining  with  the  Minister  of  the  Interior; 
and  the  children,  who  had  been  on  a  long  excursion  in  the 
afternoon,  had  of  their  own  accord  begged  to  go  to  bed  before 
the  usual  hour.  Thus  the  conversation  previously  interrupted 
by  Madame  de  la  Bastie  was  naturally  re-opened ;  and  I  was 
about  to  ask  M.  Dorlange  to  finish  the  story,  of  which  he  had 
only  given  me  a  hint  of  the  end,  when  old  Lucas  came  in, 
bringing  me  a  letter.  It  was  from  my  Armand,  to  tell  me 
that  he  had  been  in  the  sickroom  all  day,  very  unwell. 

"I  want  the  carriage,"  said  I  to  Lucas,  with  such  agitation 
as  you  may  suppose. 

"Well,  madame,  but  monsieur  ordered  it  to  fetch  him  at 
half-past  eight,  and  Tony  is  gone,"  replied  Lucas. 

"Then  get  me  a  hackney  cab." 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  find  one,"  said  the 
old  man,  who  always  raises  difficulties.  "It  has  just  begun 
to  rain." 


192  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Without  noticing  this  objection,  and  quite  forgetting  M. 
Dorlange,  whom  I  left  somewhat  embarrassed,  not  liking  to 
leave  without  saying  good-bye,  I  went  to  my  room  to  put  on 
my  bonnet  and  shawl.  Having  done  so  in  great  haste,  I  re- 
turned to  the  drawing-room,  where  I  still  found  my  visitor. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  monsieur,"  said  I,  "for  leaving  yon 
so  abruptly;  I  am  hurrying  off  to  the  College  Henri  IV.  I 
could  not  endure  to  spend  the  night  in  such  anxiety  as  I  am 
feeling  in  consequence  of  a  note  from  my  son,  who  tells  me 
that  he  has  been  in  the  sickroom  all  day." 

"But  surely,"  said  M.  Dorlange,  "you  are  not  going  alone 
in  a  hackney  coach  to  such  an  out-of-the-way  part  of  the 
town?" 

"Lucas  will  come  with  me." 

At  this  moment  Lucas  came  in  again.  His  words  were 
fulfilled ;  there  was  not  a  cab  to  be  had,  and  it  was  pouring 
in  torrents.  Time  was  flying ;  it  was  almost  too  late  already  to 
visit  at  the  school,  where  everybody  would  be  in  bed  by  nine 
o'clock. 

"I  must  go,"  said  I  to  Lucas.  "Go  and  put  on  your  thick 
shoes,  and  we  will  go  on  foot  with  umbrellas." 

I  saw  the  man's  face  lengthen;  he  is  no  longer  young;  he 
likes  his  ease,  and  he  complains  of  rheumatism  in  the  winter. 
He  suddenly  found  a  number  of  objections ;  it  was  very  late ; 
we  should  revolutionize  the  school;  I  should  certainly  catch 
cold;  M.  Armand  could  not  be  very  ill  since  he  had  written 
himself — my  plan  of  campaign  was  evidently  not  at  all  to  my 
old  man's  mind. 

Then  M.  Dorlange  very  obligingly  offered  to  go  for  me  and 
come  back  to  report  the  invalid,  but  such  half-measures  will 
not  do  for  me — I  wanted  to  see,  and  satisfy  myself.  So,  with 
many  thanks  to  him,  I  said  to  Lucas,  in  an  authoritative 
tone: 

"Come,  go  and  get  ready,  and  be  quick,  for  one  thing  you 
have  said  that  is  perfectly  true — it  is  growing  late." 

Thus  nailed  to  the  point,  Lucas  boldly  hoisted  the  flag  of 
rebellion. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  193 

"It  is  simply  impossible,  madame,  that  you  should  go  out 
in  such  weather,  and  I  do  not  want  to  get  a  scolding  from 
the  master  for  giving  in  to  any  such  idea." 

"Then  you  simply  do  not  mean  to  obey  me  ?" 

"You  know,  madame,  that  for  anything  useful  or  reason- 
able I  would  do  whatever  you  might  order,  even  if  it  were  to 
walk  through  fire." 

"To  be  sure,  warmth  is  good  for  the  rheumatism,  and  rain 
is  bad  for  it." 

Then  I  turned  to  M.  Dorlange  without  listening  to  the  old 
rebel's  reply,  and  said  to  him: 

"Since  you  were  good  enough  to  offer  to  go  alone  on  this 
errand,  I  venture  to  hope  that  you  will  not  refuse  me  the  sup- 
port of  your  arm." 

"Like  Lucas,"  said  he,  "I  do  not  see  that  this  expedition  is 
indispensable ;  however,  as  I  have  no  fear  of  being  scolded  by 
M.  de  1'Estorade,  I  will,  of  course,  have  the  honor  of  escorting 
you." 

We  set  out;  and  as  I  went  downstairs,  I  could  not  help 
thinking  that  life  is  full  of  singular  coincidences.  Here  was 
a  man  whom  I  do  not  wholly  trust,  who,  two  months  ago, 
manoeuvred,  like  a  pirate,  to  get  sight  of  me,  and  to  whom  I 
had  now  entrusted  myself  with  complete  confidence,  under 
conditions  which  the  most  favored  lover  would  have  hardly 
dared  to  dream  of. 

The  weather  really  was  horrible;  we  had  not  gone  fifty 
yards  when  we  were  already  drenched,  in  spite  of  Lucas'  vast 
umbrella,  held  by  M.  Dorlange  so  as  to  shelter  me  by  sacri- 
ficing himself.  Then  a  new  complication  arose.  A  hackney 
cab  went  past;  my  companion  hailed  the  driver;  it  was  empty. 
To  tell  my  escort  that  I  could  not  allow  him  to  get  in  with 
me  was  out  of  the  question.  Not  only  would  such  an  implied 
doubt  have  been  grossly  uncivil,  but  it  would  have  been  de- 
rogatory to  myself  even  to  suggest  it.  And  yet,  you  see,  my 
dear  friend,  what  slippery  ways  we  tread,  and  how  true  it  is 
that  from  the  time  of  Dido  and  ^Eneas  rain  has  always  served 
the  turn  of  lovers! 


194  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

It  is  difficult  to  talk  in  a  cab;  the  clatter  of  wheels  and 
windows  compels  one  to  shout.  M.  Dorlange  knew  too  that 
I  was  extremely  uneasy,  and  he  had  the  good  taste  to  make  no 
attempt  at  a  prolonged  conversation;  just  now  and  again  he 
made  some  trivial  remark  to  break  the  silence  which  other- 
wise would  have  been  awkward  under  the  circumstances. 

When  we  reached  the  school,  M.  Dorlange,  after  handing 
me  out,  understood  that  he  could  not  go  in  with  me;  he  got 
into  the  coach  again  to  wait  for  me. 

Master  Armand's  indisposition  was  somewhat  of  a  practical 
joke  so  far  as  I  was  concerned.  His  illness  was  no  more  than 
a  headache,  which  since  his  note  was  written  had  completely 
disappeared.  The  doctor;  who  had  seen  him  in  the  morning, 
to  order  something,  had  prescribed  lime-flower  tea,  and  told 
him  he  could  return  to  the  classroom  next  day.  So  I  had 
taken  a  sledge-hammer  to  kill  a  flea,  and  committed  a  pre- 
posterous blunder  in  arriving  at  an  hour  when  all  the  staff 
were  in  bed,  to  find  my  young  gentleman  still  up  and  playing 
a  game  of  chess  with  one  of  the  attendants. 

By  the  time  I  went  out  again  the  rain  had  ceased,  and  bright 
moonlight  silvered  the  pavement,  which  the  rain  had  so  thor- 
oughly washed  that  there  was  not  a  sign  of  mud.  I  was  so 
oppressed  and  vexed  that  I  longed  for  the  fresh  air.  So  I 
begged  M.  Dorlange  to  send  away  the  coach,  and  we  walked 
home.  This  was  a  fine  chance  for  him ;  between  the  Pantheon 
and  the  Eue  de  Varenne  there  is  time  to  say  much.  But  M. 
Dorlange  was  so  little  inclined  to  avail  himself  of  the  situa- 
tion, that,  taking  Master  Armand's  prank  as  his  text,  he  ex- 
patiated on  the  mischief  of  spoiling  children.  The  subject 
is  one  I  have  no  liking  for,  and  he  might  have  discovered  that 
from  the  dry  reserve  with  which  I  took  my  part  in  the  con- 
versation. 

"Come,"  thought  I,  "we  must  come  to  an  end  of  this  story, 
which  is  always  interrupted,  like  the  famous  anecdote  of  San- 
cho's  goatherd  which  could  never  be  told." 

So,  cutting  short  his  theories  of  education — 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  I  to  my  earnest  companion,  "that 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  195 

this  would  be  a  good  opportunity  for  going  on  with  the  con- 
fidential narrative  you  were  interrupted  in.  Here  we  are 
quite  safe  from  any  intrusion." 

•"I  am  afraid,"  said  M.  Dorlange,  "that  I  am  but  a  bad  nar- 
rator. I  exhausted  all  my  genius  the  other  day  in  communi- 
cating the  history  to  Marie-Gaston." 

"That,"  said  I,  with  a  laugh,  "is  against  your  principles  of 
secrecy,  in  which  a  third  person  is  one  too  many." 

"Oh,  Marie-Gaston  and  I  are  but  one  person.  Besides,  I 
had  to  give  some  answer  to  the  odd  fancies  he  had  formed  as 
to  you  and  me." 

"What— as  to  me !" 

"Yes.  He  opines  that  by  staring  too  hard  at  the  sun  one 
may  be  dazzled  by  its  rays." 

"Which,  in  less  metaphorical  language,  means? " 

"That  seeing  how  strange  the  circumstances  were  that  led 
to  my  having  the  honor  of  your  acquaintance,  I  might  possi- 
bly, madame,  in  your  society,  fail  to  preserve  my  common- 
sense  and  self-possession." 

"And  your  story  answers  this  hypothesis  of  Marie-Gas- 
ton's?" 

"You  shall  judge,"  said  M.  Dorlange. 

And  then,  without  further  preamble,  he  told  me  a  rather 
long  story,  which  I  do  not  repeat  to  you,  my  dear  madame, 
because  on  the  one  hand  it  has  really  nothing  to  do  with  your 
functions  as  keeper  of  my  conscience,  and  on  the  other  it  is 
mixed  up  with  a  family  secret  which  demands  more  discretion 
on  my  part  than  I  could  have  anticipated. 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  is  that  M.  Dorlange  is  in  love 
with  the  woman  who  had  sat  in  his  imagination  for  the  Saint 
Ursula.  Still,  as  it  must  be  said  that  she  is  apparently  for 
ever  out  of  his  reach,  it  did  not  seem  to  me  quite  impossible 
that  he  might  sooner  or  later  transfer  to  me  the  feeling  he 
still  preserves  for  her.  Hence,  when,  having  finished  his  nar- 
rative, he  asked  me  whether  I  did  not  take  it  as  a  triumphant 
refutation  of  our  friend's  absurd  fears,  I  could  but  reply : 

"Modesty  makes  it  incumbent  on  me  to  share  your  confi- 


196  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

dence.  At  the  same  time,  a  cannon  ball  often  kills  by 
ricochet." 

"And  you  believe  me  guilty  of  the  audacity  which  Marie- 
Gaston  fears  may  be  so  fatal  to  me  ?" 

''I  do  not  know  that  it  would  be  audacity,"  said  I,  rather 
harshly;  "but  if  you  had  such  a  fancy  and  took  it  to  heart, 
I  should,  I  own,  think  you  greatly  to  be  pitied." 

His  reply  was  a  home-thrust: 

"Well,  madame,  you  need  not  pity  me. — In  my  opinion, 
first  love  is  a  kind  of  vaccination  which  saves  a  man  from 
catching  the  complaint  a  second  time." 

This  closed  the  conversations  the  story  had  been  a  long  one, 
and  we  were  at  home.  I  asked  M.  Dorlange  to  come  upstairs, 
a  politeness  he  accepted,  remarking  that  M.  de  1'Estorade 
had  probably  come  in,  and  he  could  say  good-bye  to  him. 

My  husband  was  in  fact  at  home.  I  do  not  know  whether 
Lucas,  to  anticipate  the  blame  I  should  have  cast  on  him,  had 
done  his  best  to  misrepresent  my  proceedings,  or  whether  my 
maternal  exploit  prompted  M.  de  1'Estorade,  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  to  a  spasm  of  jealousy  of  which  he  was  unable  to 
conceal  the  unfamiliar  symptoms;  at  any  rate,  he  received 
me  with  an  indignant  rating,  saying  that  nothing  was  so  un- 
heard of  as  the  idea  of  going  out  at  this  hour,  and  in  such 
weather,  to  inquire  after  an  invalid  who,  by  announcing  his 
illness  himself,  showed  it  was  not  in  the  least  serious. 

After  allowing  him  to  go  on  for  some  time  in  a  highly 
unbecoming  manner,  I  thought  it  was  time  to  put  an  end  to 
the  scene. 

"Well,"  said  I  sharply,  "I  wished  to  get  some  sleep  to- 
night ;  I  went  to  the  school  in  pouring  rain.  Now  I  have  come 
back  in  beautiful  moonlight,  and  I  beg  to  remind  you  that 
after  kindly  consenting  to  escort  me,  M.  Dorlange,  who  leaves 
Paris  to-morrow,  came  upstairs  to  bid  you  good-bye." 

I  have  habitually  too  much  influence  over  M.  de  1'Estorade 
for  this  call  to  order  to  fail  of  its  effect ;  still,  I  could  see  that 
there  was  something  of  the  aggrieved  husband  in  his  tone; 
for,  having  brought  in  M.  Dorlange  to  divert  his  thoughts,  I 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  197 

soon  perceived  that  I  had  but  made  him  a  victim  to  my  ogre'a 
ill-temper,  which  was  now  vented  on  him. 

After  telling  him  that  his  nomination  for  election  had  been 
much  discussed  at  the  Minister's  dinner-table,  M.  de  1'Esto- 
rade,  with  evident  satisfaction,  told  him  all  the  reasons  which 
must  lead  to  his  failing  conspicuously;  the  constituency  of 
Arcis-sur-Aube  was  one  of  those  where  the  Ministry  were  most 
secure  of  the  votes;  a  man  of  extraordinary  ability  had 
already  been  sent  down  there,  and  had  for  some  days  been 
working  up  the  place,  and  he  had  sent  the  most  flourishing 
reports  to  the  Government.  All  this  was  dealing  in  gen- 
eralities, and  M.  Dorlange  replied  with  perfect  modesty,  and 
the  manner  of  a  man  who  has  prepared  himself  beforehand 
for  all  the  freaks  of  chance  that  may  affect  his  return.  But 
M.  de  1'Estorade  had  a  last  shaft  to  fling  which  certainly 
could  not  fail  to  prove  effective,  since  with  the  same  blow  it 
would  hit  the  candidate  and  the  profligate — if  profligate  he 
were. 

"Listen  to  me,  my  dear  sir,"  said  M.  de  1'Estorade  to  his 
victim,  "when  a  man  rushes  into  a  parliamentary  career,  he 
must  remember  that  he  has  to  show  every  card — his  public 
and  his  private  life.  His  adversaries  overhaul  his  past  and 
present  with  merciless  hands,  and  woe  to  him  whose  life  has 
the  shadow  of  a  stain !— Well,  I  may  tell  you  plainly,  this 
evening  a  little  scandal  was  raked  up — a  very  little  one  in  the 
life  of  an  artist,  but  one  which,  as  affecting  a  representative 
of  the  people,  assumes  far  more  serious  proportions.  You 
understand  me.  I  am  alluding  to  the  handsome  Italian  wo- 
man who  lives  under  your  roof.  Take  care ;  you  may  be  called 
to  account  by  some  puritan  voter  for  the  more  or  less  doubt- 
ful morality  of  her  connection  with  you." 

M.  Dorlange's  reply  was  very  dignified: 

"I  can  have  but  one  wish  for  those  who  choose  to  question 
me  on  that  detail  of  my  domestic  life,"  said  he,  "and  that  is 
that  they  may  have  nothing  worse  to  look  back  upon  in  theirs. 
— If  I  had  not  already  bored  Madame  la  Comtesse  with  one 
interminable  story  during  our  walk  home,  I  would  tell  you 


198  THE  MEMBER  FOR  AROIS 

that  of  the  pretty  Italian,,  and  you  would  see  that  her  presence 
in  my  house  need  deprive  me  of  none  of  the  esteem  you  have 
kindly  honored  me  with." 

"But  indeed/'  said  M.  de  1'Estorade,  suddenly  mollified  by 
hearing  that  our  long  walk  had  been  spent  in  narrating  his- 
tory, "you  take  my  remarks  far  too  seriously !  As  I  said  but 
just  now,  an  artist  needs  a  handsome  model,  nothing  can  be 
more  natural;  but  it  is  a  piece  of  furniture  that  is  of  no 
use  to  gentlemen  engaged  in  politics." 

"What  appears  to  be  of  more  use  to  them,"  retorted  M. 
Dorlange,  with  some  vivacity,  "is  the  advantage  that  may 
be  taken  of  a  calumny  greedily  accepted  with  evil  haste,  and 
with  no  effort  to  verify  it. — However,  far  from  dreading  an 
explanation  on  the  subject  you  are  pleased  to  discuss,  I  am 
eager  for  it;  and  the  Ministry  would  be  doing  me  a  service 
by  instructing  so  clever  an  inquisitor  as  they  have  put  on 
my  track  to  bring  this  delicate  matter  before  my  constituents." 

"So  you  are  going  to-morrow?"  asked  M.  de  1'Estorade, 
finding  that  he  had  started  on  a  path  where,  instead  of  bring- 
ing M.  Dorlange  to  confusion,  he  had  afforded  him  an  op- 
portunity of  answering  with  no  little  haughtiness  of  tone 
and  phrase. 

"Yes,  and  early  in  the  day,  so  that  I  will  have  the  honor 
now  of  wishing  you  good-night,  for  I  still  have  some  packing 
to  finish." 

With  these  words  M.  Dorlange  rose,  and  after  bowing  to 
me  rather  formally,  he  left  the  room,  not  shaking  hands 
with  my  husband,  who,  indeed,  did  not  offer  him  the  op- 
portunity. 

M.  de  1'Estorade,  to  avoid  the  impending  and  inevitable 
explanation,  at  once  exclaimed : 

"Well,  and  what  was  the  matter  with  Armand  ?" 

"What  was  the  matter  with  Armand  matters  little,"  replied 
I,  "as  you  may  suppose  from  my  having  returned  without 
him  and  showing  no  anxiety;  what  is  a  far  more  interesting 
question  is  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  for  I  never  saw  you 
BO  out  of  tune,  so  bitter  and  cross-grained." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  199 

"What !  Because  I  told  that  ridiculous  candidate  that  he 
might  go  into  mourning  at  once  over  his  chances  ?" 

"In  the  first  place,  it  was  not  complimentary,  and  at  any 
rate  the  time  was  ill-chosen,  when  my  motherly  alarms  had 
just  inflicted  an  odious  amount  of  trouble  on  the  man  you  at- 
tacked." 

"I  cannot  stand  officious  people,"  retorted  M.  de  1'Estorade, 
in  a  higher  tone  than  he  usually  adopts  with  me.  "And, 
after  all,  if  this  gentleman  had  not  been  on  the  spot  to  offer 
you  his  escort,  you  would  not  have  set  out  on  this  unseemly 
expedition." 

"You  are  mistaken.  I  should  have  gone  in  a  still  more 
unseemly  manner;  for  I  should  have  gone  alone,  as  your 
servants  are  the  masters  here,  and  refused  to  escort  me." 

"But,  after  all,  you  must  confess  that  if  any  one  had  met 
you  at  half-past  nine  at  night,  walking  arm  in  arm  with  M. 
Dorlange,  out  by  the  Pantheon,  it  would  have  been  thought 
strange,  to  say  the  least." 

Then,  affecting  to  have  just  discovered  what  I  had  known 
for  an  hour  past: 

"Bless  me,  monsieur!"  cried  I,  "after  fifteen  years  of 
married  life  are  you  doing  me  the  honor  of  being  jealous 
for  the  first  time?  Then,  indeed,  I  can'  understand  that,  in 
spite  of  your  regard  for  the  proprieties,  you  took  advantage 
of  my  being  present  to  question  M.  Dorlange  on  the  not  very 
proper  subject  of  the  woman  who  is  supposed  to  be  his 
mistress.  It  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  very  basely 
perfidious ;  you  were  trying  to  lower  him  in  my  eyes." 

Thus  riddled  with  shot,  my  hapless  husband  tried  indeed 
to  beat  about  the  bush,  and  at  last  found  no  better  alternative 
than  to  ring  for  Lucas,  whom  he  lectured  pretty  sharply; 
and  there  the  matter  ended. 

But  although  I  had  won  an  easy  victory,  the  great  little 
incidents  of  the  evening  left  a  most  uncomfortable  impres- 
sion on  my  mind.  I  had  come  in  quite  satisfied,  thinking 
that  I  now  knew  exactly  irliere  to  have  M.  Dorlange.  To 
be  honest-  at  tte  moment  when  he  uttered  that  magniloquent, 


200  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Do  not  pity  me,"  as  a  woman  is  always  more  or  less  a 
woman,  my  vanity  felt  a  little  shock ;  but  as  I  came  upstairs 
I  reflected  that  the  firm  and  simple  tone  in  which  he  spoke 
commanded  belief.  It  was  undoubtedly  a  natural  and  frank 
outburst  of  genuine  feeling,  which  was  not  aimed  at  me, 
but  certainly  intended  for  some  one  else.  So  I  might  be 
perfectly  at  my  ease. 

But,  then,  what  is  to  be  said  of  the  conjugal  tact  which, 
while  trying  to  make  the  man — of  whom  I  had  really  been 
thinking  too  much — commit  himself  in  my  presence,  gave  him 
an  opportunity  of  appearing  in  a  better  light  than  ever,  and 
to  the  greatest  advantage?  For  there  is  no  doubt  whatever 
that  the  indignation  with  which  M.  Dorlange  retaliated  on 
the  malignancy  of  which  he  was  the  object  was  the  answer  of 
an  easy  conscience,  sure,  too,  of  being  able  to  refute  the 
calumny.  What,  my  dear  madame,  I  ask  you,  what  is  this 
man  whose  vulnerable  point  is  not  discoverable,  whom  we 
have  seen  on  one  or  two  occasions  positively  heroic — and 
that  as  if  he  himself  did  not  perceive  the  fact,  as  if  he  never 
lived  but  in  that  high  air,  and  greatness  were  his  element? 
Is  it  possible  that,  all  appearances  to  the  contrary,  this  Italian 
woman  is  nothing  to  him? 

Are  there,  then,  in  the  midst  of  our  small  and  colorless 
society  still  some  characters  so  strongly  tempered  that  they 
can  walk  on  the  very  precipice  of  opportunity  and  never  fall ! 
What  a  nature  must  that  be  that  can  plunge  through  thorns 
and  leave  no  wool!  I  had  fancied  I  could  make  a  friend 
of  him ! 

Nay,  I  will  not  play  at  that  game.  Supposing  this  Dante 
Alighieri  of  the  chisel  to  be  convinced  at  last  that  his  Beatrice 
will  never  return  to  him ;  supposing  that  he  should  again,  as 
he  has  done  once  already,  look  round  on  me — what  could  1  do  ? 
Is  a  woman  ever  safe  against  the  powerful  fascination  that 
such  a  man  must  exert?  As  M.  de  Montriveau  said  to  the 
poor  Duchesse  de  Langeais,  not  only  must  she  never  touch 
the  axe,  but  she  must  keep  as  far  from  it  as  she  can,  for 
fear  that  a  beam  reflected  from  such  polished  steel  should 
dazzle  her  eyes. 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  201 

Happily,  M.  de  1'Estorade  is  already  hostile  to  this  danger- 
ous man;  but  my  husband  may  be  quite  easy,  I  shall  take 
care  to  encourage  and  cultivate  this  germ  of  enmity.  And 
besides  this,  if  M.  Dorlange  should  be  elected,  he  and  my 
husband  will  be  in  opposite  camps;  and  political  passions — 
thank  Heaven ! — have  often  cut  short  older  and  better  es- 
tablished intimacies  than  this. 

"But  he  saved  your  little  girl,"  you  will  say;  "you  were 
afraid  of  his  loving  you,  and  he  does  not  think  of  you  at  all ; 
he  is  a  man  of  cultivated  intellect  and  magnanimous  feeling, 
with  whom  there  is  not  a  fault  to  the  found? " 

What  arguments  are  these,  my  dear  lady? — He  frightens 
me,  and  that  is  enough.  And  when  I  am  frightened,  I 
neither  argue  nor  reason;  I  only  consider  whether  I  have 
legs  and  breath,  and  simply  run  and  run  till  I  feel  myself 
in  safety. 

Dorlange  to  Marie-Oaston. 

PARIS,  April  1839. 

On  coming  in  from  taking  leave  of  the  Estorades,  I  find 
your  letter,  my  dear  friend,  announcing  your  immediate  ar- 
rival. I  will  wait  here  all  to-morrow;  but  in  the  evening, 
without  any  further  delay,  I  must  set  out  for  Arcis-sur-Aube, 
where,  vdthin  a  week,  the  end  of  my  political  struggle  is  to  be 
fought  out.  What  supporters  and  abettors  I  have  in  that 
town  which — as  I  am  informed — I  am  so  anxious  to  repre- 
sent ;  on  whose  help  or  opposition  I  am  to  build  my  hopes ;  in 
one  word,  who  it  is  that  is  making  this  electoral  bed  for  me 
to  lie  in, — of  all  this  I  know  no  more  now  than  I  did  a  year 
ago  when  I  was  first  apprised  of  my  parliamentary  vocation. 

Only  a  few  days  since  did  I  receive  a  communication 
emanating  from  the  paternal  office,  not  from  Stockholm  this 
time,  but  with  the  Paris  postmark.  From  the  tenor  of  this 
document  I  should  hardly  be  surprised  to  hear  that  the  high 
functions  fulfilled  in  the  northern  capital  by  the  mysterious 
author  of  my  being  were  simply  those  of  a  corporal  in  the 
Prussian  army;  for  it  is  impossible  to  give  instructions  in  a 


202  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

more  domineering  and  peremptory  tone,  01  with  more  tire- 
some regard  for  the  minutest  details. 
The  note  has  a  title  or  heading;  as  thus-. 

WHAT  MY  SON  IS  TO  DO 

On  receipt  of  these  presents  I  am  to  send  off  the  "Saint 
Ursula,"  to  see  it  packed  myself  in  a  case,  and  address  it, 
by  quick  goods  vans,  to  Mother  Marie  des  Anges,  Superior  of 
the  House  of  the  Ursuline  Sisters  at  Arcis-sur-Aube,  AUBE 
— you  understand? — In  fact,  but  for  this  added  information 
I  might  have  fancied  that  Arcis-sur-Aube  was  situated  in 
the  department  of  the  Gironde  or  of  Finisterre. — I  am  there 
to  make  an  arrangement  with  the  carrier's  agents  to  insure 
the  delivery  of  the  parce'i — my  "Saint  Ursula"  a  parcel ! — 
at  the  door  of  the  convent  chapel.  I  am  then  commanded 
to  start  a  very  few  days  later,  so  as  to  reach  the  aforenamed 
town  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  by  the  second  of  May  at  latest.  You 
see,  these  are  military  orders ;  so  much  so  that  I  half  thought 
of  taking  out  a  soldier's  pass  instead  or  an  ordinary  permit  to 
travel,  and  of  taking  my  journey  at  the  regulation  fare  of 
three  sous  per  league. 

The  hotel  I  am  to  put  up  at  is  expressly  mentioned: 
I  am  to  stay  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Paste;  hence,  if  I  should 
happen  to  prefer  the  Three  Blackamoors  or  the  Silver  Lion, 
which  are  to  be  found  there,  no  doubt,  as  in  every  country 
town,  I  must  not  indulge  the  fancy.  Finally,  on  the  day 
before  I  start,  I  am  to  announce,  in  any  newspapers  I  can 
work  upon,  the  fact  of  my  intending  to  stand  as  a  candidate 
for  election  in  the  electoral  district  of  Arcis-sur-Aube  ( Aube), 
but  not  to  put  forward  any  declaration  of  my  political  creed, 
which  would  be  useless  and  premature.  And  the  whole  con- 
cludes with  instructions — a  little  humiliating  perhaps,  but 
giving  me  some  faith  in  the  progress  of  affairs — to  call  on 
the  morning  of  the  day  when  I  set  out  on  Mongenod  Brothers, 
where  I  can  again  draw  a  sum  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand francs,  which  ought  to  be  lying  there  in  my  name.  "I 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  203 

am  to  take  the  greatest  care/'  the  document  goes  on,  "that 
in  conveying  this  sum  from  Paris  to  Arcis-sur-Aube  it  is 
neither  lost  nor  stolen." 

What,  my  good  sir,  do  you  make  of  this  last  clause.  The 
money  "ought  to  be  lying  there" — then  it  may  not  be;  and 
if  not,  what  then  ?  What  am  I  to  do  with  it  at  Arcis  ?  Am 
I  to  work  my  election  in  the  English  fashion? — that,  no 
doubt,  is  why  a  profession  of  faith  would  be  "useless  and 
premature."  As  to  the  advice  not  to  lose  the  money  or  allow 
myself  to  be  robbed — don't  you  think  it  makes  me  wonder- 
fully young  again  ?  Since  reading  it  I  have  quite  longed  to 
suck  my  thumb  and  get  a  padded  cap. 

However,  as  to  my  lord  and  father,  though  he  puts  my 
mind  on  the  rack  by  all  these  queer  ways  of  his,  I  could 
exclaim — but  for  the  respect  I  owe  him — like  Don  Basilio 
in  speaking  of  Almaviva,  "That  devil  of  a  man  has  his 
pockets  full  of  irresistible  arguments!" 

So  I  shut  my  eyes  and  give  myself  up  to  the  stream  that 
is  carrying  me  on;  and  in  spite  of  the  news  of  your  early 
advent,  I  must  call  to-morrow  morning  on  Mongenod 
Brothers  and  set  forth  with  a  brave  heart,  picturing  to  my- 
self the  amazement  of  the  good  folks  of  Arcis  when  they  see 
me  drop  into  their  midst,  as  sudden  and  as  startling  an  ap- 
parition as  a  Jack-in-the-box. 

I  have  already  made  my  mark  in  Paris.-  The  National  an- 
nounced me  as  a  candidate  yesterday  morning  in  the  most, 
naming  terms;  and  this  evening  it  would  seem  that  I  was 
the  subject  of  much  discussion  at  the  house  of  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior,  where  M.  de  1'Estorade  was  dining.  I  must 
in  honesty  add  that,  according  to  M.  de  1'Estorade,  the  general 
impression  was  that  I  must  inevitably  fail.  In  the  district 
of  Arcis,  it  would  seem,  the  worst  the  Government  had  to 
fear  was  a  Left-Centre  candidate ;  the  democratic  party,  which 
I  am  by  way  of  representing,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  any 
existence  there.  The  Left-Centre  candidate  has  already  been 
brought  to  his  senses  by  the  dispatch  of  a  particularly  alert 
and  skilful  canvasser;  and  at  his  moment,  when  I  am  fling- 


204  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

ing  my  name  to  the  winds,  the  election  of  the  Conservative  is 
already  a  certainty. 

Added  to  these  elements  of  inevitable  failure,  M.  de 
FEstorade  was  good  enough  to  speak  of  a  circumstance  as 
to  which,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am  surprised  that  you  should 
never  have  given  me  a  sermon,  for  it  is  one  of  the  most 
pleasing  of  the  calumnies  set  rolling  in  the  Montcornet  draw- 
ing-room \)j  the  honorable  and  highly  honored  Monsieur 
Bixiou.  It  has  to  do  with  a  very  handsome  Italian  woman 
whom  I  am  supposed  to  have  brought  with  me  from  Rome, 
and  to  be  living  with  in  most  uncanonical  relationship. 

Pray  tell  me  what  has  kept  you  from  asking  for  explana- 
tions of  the  matter  ?  Did  you  think  the  case  so  atrocious  that 
you  were  shy  of  offending  my  sense  of  decency  by  alluding 
to  it  in  any  way?  Or  is  it  that  you  have  such  confidence  in 
my  high  moral  sense  that  you  Deed  no  certificate  on  that 
point  ? — I  had  not  time  to  go  into  the  necessary  explanations 
with  M.  de  1'Estorade,  nor  have  I  time  now  to  volunteer  them 
to  you.  I  mention  the  incident  only  to  bring  me  to  a  remark 
which  I  believe  to  be  true,  and  which  I  wonld  beg  you  to  verify 
when  you  come  to  Paris. 

I  have  a  strong  notion  that  M.  de  1'Estorade  would  not 
be  best  pleased  at  my  succeeding  in  this  electoral  campaign. 
He  has  never  expressed  much  approbation  of  my  plans,  and 
has  constantly  done  his  utmost  to  divert  roe  from  them — 
always  indeed  by  urging  considerations  in  xny  own  interest. 
But  now  that  the  idea  has  taken  shape,  and  i?  even  discussed 
in  Ministerial  circles,  my  gentleman  has  turned  sour;  and 
while  finding  malicious  pleasure  in  promising  me  defeat,  he 
brings  up  the  pretty  little  activity  under  which  he  hopes  to 
smother  and  bury  me — as  a  friendly  act.  Xow,  why  ? 

I  will  tell  you.  The  fact  is,  that  though  he  is  under  an 
obligation  to  me,  the  good  man  by  his  high  social  position 
feels  himself  my  superior  in  a  way  which  my  election  to  the 
Chamber  would  nullify,  and  he  does  not  like  the  notion  of 
renouncing  it.  For,  after  all,  what  is  an  artist — even  if  he 
were  a  genius — in  comparison  with  a  Peer  of  France,  a  bigwig 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  205 

who  has  a  finger  in  the  supreme  direction  of  great  political 
and  social  questions — a  man  who  can  buttonhole  the  Ministers 
and  the  King,  who,  if  he  were  capable  of  such  an  audacious 
flight,  has  a  right  to  blackball  the  Budget?  And  is  it  con- 
ceivable that  1,  in  my  turn,  should  want  to  be  such  a 
privileged  person,  with  even  greater  importance  and  authority 
as  being  a  member  of  the  elective  body?  Is  it  not  a  trying 
piece  of  insolence  and  conceit?  Hence  is  M.  le  Comte 
furious ! 

Nor  is  this  all.  These  politicians  by  right  divine  have 
a  fixed  idea :  they  believe  themselves  to  have  been  initiated  by 
long  study  into  a  science  supposed  to  be  very  abstruse,  which 
they  call  Statecraft,  and  which  they  alone  have  a  right  to 
know  and  practise,  as  none  but  physicians  may  practise 
medicine.  So  they  cannot  endure  that  without  having  taken 
out  a  license,  any  low  fellow — such  as  a  journalist,  for 
instance,  or,  lower  still,  an  artist,  an  image-maker — should 
dare  to  poach  on  their  domain  and  speak  as  they  do.  A  poet, 
an  artist,  a  writer  may  have  great  gifts — that  they  are  ready 
to  grant ;  in  fact,  their  business  requires  it ;  but  they  cannot 
be  statesmen.  Chateaubriand  himself,  though  naturally  in 
a  position  which  justified  him  in  making  a  place  for  himself 
on  the  Olympus  of  Government,  was  nevertheless  shown  the 
door,  and  one  morning  a  very  brief  note,  signed  "Joseph 
Villele,"  sent  him  packing — as  was  but  proper ! — back  to 
Rene,  Atala,  and  other  literary  trivialities. 

I  know  that  time,  and  that  stalwart  posthumous  daughter 
of  us  all  whom  we  call  Posterity,  will  in  the  long  run  do  us 
all  full  justice  and  put  every  man  in  his  right  place.  In 
2039,  if  the  world  holds  out  so  long,  most  men  will  still 
know  who,  in  1839,  were  Canalis,  Joseph  Bridau,  Daniel 
d'Arthez,  Stidmann,  and  L6on  de  Lora;  while  only  an  in- 
finitely small  number  will  be  aware  that  at  the  same  time  M, 
le  Comte  de  FEstorade  was  a  Peer  of  France  and  President  of 
the  Court  of  Exchequer;  that  M.  le  Comte  de  Rastignac  was 
Minister  of  Public  Works,  and  M.  le  Baron  Martial  de  la 
Eoche-Hugon,  his  brother-in-law,  a  diplomatist  and  privy 


206  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

councillor  on  special  service  more  or  less  extraordinary. 
Still,  pending  this  postponed  resifting  and  far-off  justice,  I 
do  not  think  it  a  bad  thing  that  these  great  men  in  office 
should  have  a  reminder  to  the  effect  that,  short  of  being  a 
Richelieu  or  a  Colbert,  they  are  subject  to  competition,  and 
must  take  the  consequences.  Thus,  merely  out  of  this  spirit 
of  contrariness,  I  am  bent  on  my  project;  and  if  I  should 
be  elected,  unless  you  can  assure  me  this  evening  that  I  have 
misunderstood  FEstorade's  behavior,  1  shall  find  some  oppor- 
tunity for  making  him  and  some  others  feel  that  a  man  who 
has  the  will  can  step  over  the  palings  of  their  little  enclosure 
and  figure  in  it  as  their  equal. 

But  I  have  talked  too  much  of  myself,  my  dear  friend,  with- 
out thinking  of  the  painful  feelings  that  must  attend  your 
return  here.  How  will  you  bear  it  ?  And  will  you  not,  in- 
stead of  setting  your  sorrows  aside,  rather  go  forth  to  meet 
them,  and  take  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  reviving  their  bitter- 
ness? Well,  I  might  say  of  such  great  griefs  what  I  said 
just  now  of  the  great  men  in  office:  they  must  be  regarded 
in  their  place  in  time  and  space,  and  then  they  are  intangible, 
imperceptible,  they  are  held  of  no  more  account  in  a  man's 
life  when  his  biography  is  written  than  the  hairs  he  combs  out 
of  his  head  every  morning.  That  charming  lunatic  with 
whom  you  spent  three  jrears  of  matrimonial  ecstasy  put  out 
a  hand,  as  she  thought,  where  Death  was — and  Death,  mock- 
ing at  her  schemes,  her  plans,  at  the  refinement  and  graces 
she  added  to  life,  snatched  at  her  suddenly  and  brutally. 
You  remain:  You,  with  youth  on  your  side  and  the  gifts 
of  intellect,  and  with  what  is,  believe  me,  an  element  of 
power — deep  and  premature  disgust  of  things.  Xow,  why 
not  do  as  I  am  doing?  Why  not  join  me  in  the  political 
arena  ?  Then  there  would  be  two  of  us  to  carry  out  my  plans, 
and  the  world  would  see  what  can  be  done  by  two  determined 
and  energetic  men,  yoked  together  as  it  were,  and  both  pulling 
at  the  heavy  collar  of  justice  and  truth. 

But  if  you  think  that  I  am  too  much  bent  on  becoming 
infectious,  or  inoculating  all  and  sundry  with  my  parlia- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR   ARCIS  207 

mentary  yellow-fever,  return  at  least  to  the  world  of  letters 
where  you  have  already  made  your  mark,  and  exert  your 
imagination  to  enable  you  to  ignore  your  heart,  which  speaks 
too  constantly  of  the  past.  I,  for  my  part,  will  make  as  much 
stir  for  you  as  I  can;  and  even  if  it  should  cost  me  part 
of  my  sleep  to  keep  up  our  correspondence  to  divert  your  mind 
whether  you  will  or  no,  I  shall  take  care  to  keep  you  in- 
formed of  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  drama  I  am  about  to 
play  a  part  in. 

Since,  on  your  arrival  in  Paris,  you  will  have  no  fixed 
habitation,  I  should  take  it  very  kindly,  and  feel  you  quite 
your  old  self,  if  you  would  but  make  yourself  at  home  in  my 
house  instead  of  going  on  to  Ville-d'Avray,  which  is  a  bad 
and  dangerous  place  for  you.  Then  you  can  judge  of  my 
handsome  housekeeper,  and  see  how  she  is  slandered  and  mis- 
understood. You  will  be  near  to  1'Estorade,  who  will,  I  ex- 
pect, prove  quite  a  comfort  to  you;  and  it  will  be  an  ad- 
mirable way  of  expiating  all  the  involuntary  offences  of  which 
you  have  been  guilty  towards  me.  Just  on  the  chance,  I 
have  given  the  necessary  orders,  and  your  room  is  ready  for 
you.  The  quiet  part  of  the  town  where  I  live  will  serve 
as  a  transition  to  the  infernally  noisy  heart  of  Paris,  which 
I  doubt  your  ever  again  becoming  accustomed  to.  I 
live  at  no  great  distance  from  the  Eue  d'Enfer,  where  we 
formerly  were  at  home  together,  and  where  we  were  often  so 
happy. 

What  dreams  we  dreamed,  what  schemes  we  laid,  and  how 
little  life  has  realized  of  them  all !  Our  commonest  day- 
dream was  of  glory,  and  that,  the  only  one  in  which  we  might 
perhaps  not  have  become  bankrupt,  we  have  voluntarily  aban- 
doned: you  to  suffer  and  weep,  I  to  run  after  a  will-o'-the- 
wisp  relationship  on  which  I  may  not  after  all  have  to  con- 
gratulate myself ! — The  ever-changing  current  has  carried 
everything  before  it — our  dykes,  our  flower-gardens,  our  bud- 
ding rose-trees,  our  country  houses ;  one  thing  alone  has  hung 
by  its  anchor,  our  old  and  sacred  friendship.  Do  nothing 
more  to  wreck  it,  I  entreat,  dear  prodigal,  nor  run  the  risk  of 


208  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

a  quarrel  with  the  Northern  Court  of  which  I  may  some  day 
be  the  Suger  or  the  Sully. 

P.8. — You  have  not  arrived,  my  dear  friend,  and  I  must 
close  my  letter,  which  will  be  handed  to  you  by  my  house- 
keeper when  you  call — for,  of  course,  your  first  visit  will  be 
to  me.  Till  then  you  cannot  know  that  I  am  gone. 

I  went  this  morning  to  the  bankers  Mongenod:  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  were  ready,  but  with  the 
most  extraordinary  directions — in  the  name  of  M.  le  Comte  de 
Sallenauve,  known  as  Dorlange,  sculptor,  Rue  de  I'Ouest,  No. 
±2.  And  in  spite  of  this  designation,  which  has  never  been 
mine,  the  money  was  handed  over  to  me  without  a  demur. 
Under  the  eyes  of  the  cashier  I  had  presence  of  mind  enough 
not  to  seem  utterly  amazed  by  my  new  name  and  title;  but 
I  had  a  private  interview  with  M.  Mongenod  senior,  a  man  of 
the  highest  character  in  the  banking  world,  and  to  him  I  con- 
fessed my  surprise,  begging  for  any  explanation  he  might 
be  able  to  afford  me.  He  could  give  me  none:  the  money 
was  forwarded  to  him  through  a  Dutch  bank,  his  corre- 
spondent at  Rotterdam,  and  that  is  all  he  knows. 

Bless  me !  what  next  I  wonder  ?  Am  I  now  to  be  a  noble- 
man? Has  the  moment  arrived  when  my  father  will  reveal 
himself  ? 

I'  am  just  starting  in  a  state  of  excitement  and  anxiety 
that  you  may  imagine.  Till  further  instructions  I  shall  ad- 
dress to  you  at  my  house ;  if  you  will  not  consent  to  take  up 
your  abode  there  let  me  know  of  your  whereabouts,  for  it 
strikes  me  that  we  shall  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  each 
other.  Not  a  word,  I  entreat  you,  to  the  Estorades — all  this 
is  strictly  between  ourselves. 

Dorlange  to  Marie-Gaston. 

ARCIS-SUR-AUBE,  May  3, 183ft 

MY  DEAR  OLD  FRIEND, — Last  evening,  at  seven  o'clock,  in 
the  presence  of  Maitre  Achille  Pigoult,  notary  to  the  King 
in  the  town  of  Arcis-sur-Aube,  'the  obsequies  were  solemnized 


THE    MEMBER    FOB    ARCIS  209 

of  Charles  Dorlange,  who,  presently,  like  a  butterfly  emerging 
from  the  larva,  fluttered  out  on  the  world  under  the  name 
and  person  of  Charles  de  Sallenauve,  son  of  Frangois-Henri- 
Pantaleon  Dumirail,  Marquis  de  Sallenauve.  Hereinafter 
are  set  forth  the  recorded  facts  which  preceded  this  great  and 
glorious  metempsychosis. 

On  the  evening  of  May  1st  I  left  Paris  in  all  the  official 
revelry  of  St.  Philip's  Day;  and  on  the  following  afternoon, 
in  obedience  to  paternal  instructions,  I  made  my  entry  into 
the  good  town  of  Arcis-sur-Aube.  On  getting  out  of  the 
chaise  my  amazement  was  considerable,  as  you  may  imagine, 
on  discerning,  in  the  street  where  the  diligence  had  just  ar- 
rived, that  evasive  Jacques  Bricheteau  whom  I  had  never  seen 
since  our  strange  meeting  in  the  He  Saint-Louis.  But  this 
time,  instead  of  behaving  like  Jean  de  Nivelle,  behold  him 
coming  towards  me  with  a  smile  on  his  face ;  and  holding  out 
his  hand,  he  said: 

"At  last,  my  dear  sir,  we  are  almost  at  an  end  of  these 
mysteries,  and  you  will  soon,  I  hope,  find  no  further  reason 
to  complain  of  me." 

At  the  same  time,  with  an  air  of  anxious  solicitude  that 
was  too  much  for  him,  he  added: 

"You  have  brought  the  money?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied.  "Neither  lost  nor  stolen,"  and  I  took  out 
the  pocket-book  that  contained  the  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  francs  in  banknotes. 

"That  is  well,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau.  "Now  we  will  go 
to  the  Hotel  de  la  Poste. — You  doubtless  know  who  is  waiting 
for  you?" 

"No,  indeed,"  said  I. 

"Then  you  did  not  observe  the  name  under  which  the  money 
ras  made  payable?" 

"On  the  contrary — and  anything  so  strange  could  not  fail 
to  strike  me  and  set  my  imagination  working." 

"Well,  presently  the  veil  will  be  removed  of  which,  so  far, 
a  corner  has  just  been  lifted  that  you  might  not  be  too  sud- 


210  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

denly  startled  by  the  great  and  happy  event  that  is  about  to 
take  place  in  your  life." 

"Is  my  father  here?" 

I  asked  the  question  eagerly,  and  yet  without  the  deep 
emotion  I  should  probably  have  felt  at  the  thought  of  em- 
bracing my  mother. 

"Yes,"  replied  Jacques  Bricheteau.  "But  I  think  it  well  to 
warn  you  of  a  possible  chill  on  your  meeting.  The  Marquis 
has  gone  through  much  suffering.  The  Court  life  to  which  he 
has  since  been  accustomed  has  made  him  unready  to  display 
any  expression  of  feeling;  besides,  he  has  a  perfect  horror  of 
anything  suggesting  bourgeois  manners;  so  you  must  not  be 
surprised  at  the  aristocratically  cold  and  dignified  reception 
you  may  meet  with.  He  is  kind  at  heart,  and  you  will  appre- 
ciate him  more  as  you  know  him  better." 

"These  preliminaries  are  highly  encouraging,"  thought  I. 
And  as  I  myself  did  not  feel  any  very  ardent  predispositions, 
I  augured  that  this  first  interview  would  be  at  a  temperature 
of  some  degrees  below  zero. 

On  going  into  the  room  where  the  Marquis  awaited  me,  I 
saw  a  very  tall,  very  thin,  very  bald  man,  seated  at  a  table  on 
which  he  was  arranging  papers.  On  hearing  the  door  open, 
he  pushed  his  spectacles  up  on  his  forehead,  rested  his  hands 
on  the  arms  of  his  chair,  and  looking  round  at  us  he  waited. 

"Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Sallenauve,"  said  Jacques  Briche- 
teau, announcing  me  with  the  solemnity  of  an  usher  of  am- 
bassadors or  a  groom  of  the  Chambers. 

But  in  the  presence  of  the  man  to  whom  I  owed  my  life 
the  ice  in  me  was  instantly  melted ;  I  stepped  forward  with  an 
eager  impulse,  feeling  the  tears  rise  to  my  eyes.  He  did  not 
move.  There  was  not  the  faintest  trace  of  agitation  in  his 
face,  which  had  that  peculiar  look  of  high  dignity  that  used 
to  be  called  "the  grand  air";  he  merely  held  out  his  hand, 
limply  grasped  mine,  and  then  said : 

"Be  seated,  monsieur — for  I  have  not  yet  the  right  to  call 
you  my  son." 

When  Jacques  Bricheteau  and  I  had  taken  chairs — 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  211 

"Then  you  have  no  objection/'  said  this  strange  kind  of 
father,  "to  assuming  the  political  position  we  are  trying  to 
secure  for  you  ?" 

"None  at  all,"  said  I.  "The  notion  startled  me  at  first,  but 
I  soon  grew  accustomed  to  it;  and  to  insure  success,  I  have 
punctually  carried  out  all  the  instructions  that  were  conveyed 
to  me/' 

"Excellent,"  said  the  Marquis,  taking  up  from  the  table  a 
gold  snuff-box  which  he  twirled  in  his  fingers. 

Then,  after  a  short  silence,  he  added: 

"Now  I  owe  you  certain  explanations.  Our  good  friend 
Jacques  Bricheteau,  if  he  will  have  the  kindness,  will  lay 
them  before  you." — A  sort  of  echo  of  the  royal  formula, 
"My  Chancellor  will  tell  you  the  rest." 

"To  begin  at  the  beginning,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  ac- 
cepting the  task  thus  thrust  upon  him,  "I  ought  to  tell  you, 
monsieur,  that  you  are  not  a  Sallenauve  in  the  direct  line. 
On  his  return  from  the  Emigration,  about  the  year  1808, 
M.  le  Marquis  here  present  made  the  acquaintance  of  your 
mother,  and  you  are  the  issue  of  that  connection.  Your 
mother,  as  you  already  know,  died  at  your  birth,  and  as  a 
misfortune  never  comes  single,  shortly  after  this  terrible 
sorrow  M.  de  Sallenauve,  being  implicated  in  a  plot  against 
the  Imperial  throne,  was  obliged  to  fly  the  country.  M.  le 
Marquis,  like  myself,  a  native  of  Arcis,  honored  me  with  his 
confidence,  and  on  the  eve  of  this  second  exile  he  placed  your 
young  life  in  my  charge.  I  accepted  the  responsibility,  I  will 
not  say  gladly,  but  with  sincere  gratitude." 

At  these  words  the  Marquis  held  out  his  hand  to  Jacques 
Bricheteau,  who  was  sitting  near  him,  and  after  a  silent  pres- 
sure— which,  I  may  say,  did  not  seem  to  agitate  them  deeply 
— Jacques  Bricheteau  went  on: 

"The  elaborate  and  mysterious  precautions  I  so  carefully 
contrived,  in  order  to  conceal  the  functions  I  had  accepted, 
maybe  accounted  for  by  many  reasons.  I  might  say  that  every 
change  of  government  that  we  have  lived  under  since  your 
birth  has  indirectly  reacted  on  you.  While  the  Empire  lasted, 


212  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

I  feared  lest  a  power  which  was  not  reputed  indulgent  to  those 
who  attacked  it  might  include  you  in  your  father's  ban- 
ishment, and  that  first  suggested  the  idea  of  giving  you  a  sort 
of  anonymous  identity.  Under  the  Eestoration,  I  had  reason 
to  fear  another  form  of  hostility.  The  Sallenauve  family,  of 
which  M.  le  Marquis  here  present  is  the  sole  surviving  repre- 
sentative, was  then  all-powerful.  The  circumstances  of  your 
birth  had  got  wind,  and  it  had  not  escaped  their  perspicacity 
that  monsieur  your  father  had  taken  care  not  to  admit  his 
paternity,  so  as  to  be  able  to  leave  you  his  whole  fortune,  of 
which,  as  a  recognized  natural  child,  the  law  would  only  have 
allowed  a  fixed  portion. 

"The  obscurity  that  surrounded  you  seemed  to  me  the  best 
protection  against  the  investigations  of  your  money-seeking 
relations;  and  certain  suspicious  proceedings  on  their  part  to 
spy  on  me  at  different  times  showed  that  my  anticipations 
were  justified.  Finally,  after  the  Eevolution  of  July,  I  was 
afraid  for  you  of  your  connection  with  me.  I  had  seen  the 
change  of  dynasty  with  deep  regret;  and  having  allowed  my- 
self to  become  involved  in  some  overt  acts  of  rebellion,  since 
I  had  no  belief  in  its  stability — for  men  are  always  ready  to 
fight  a  government  that  is  forced  upon  them,  and  to  which 
they  are  averse — I  found  myself  on  the  black  list  of  the 
police- 
On  this,  remembering  that  at  the  Cafe  des  Arts  Jacques 
Bricheteau  had  been  the  object  of  very  different  suspicions, 
I  could  not  help  smiling,  and  the  Chancellor  pausing,  said 
with  extreme  solemnity : 

"Do  these  details  that  I  have  the  honor  of  giving  you  by 
any  misfortune  appear  to  you  doubtful  ?" 

When  I  had  accounted  for  the  expression  of  my  face — 
"The  waiter/'  said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  "was  not  altogether 
in  the  wrong.  I  have  for  many  years  been  employed  by  the 
police  in  the  public  health  department ;  but  I  am  not  a  spy — 
on  the  contrary,  I  have  more  than  once  very  nearly  been  a 
victim. — Now,  to  return  to  the  secrecy  I  still  preserved  as  to 
our  connection,  though  I  did  not  apprehend  positive  persecu- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARGIS  213 

tion  as  resulting  to  you  from  knowing  me,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  such  an  acquaintance  might  be  detrimental  to  your 
career.  'Sculptors,'  I  reflected,  'cannot  get  on  without  the 
support  of  Government.  I  might  possibly  prevent  his  getting 
commissions.'  I  ought  also  to  say  that  at  the  time  when  I 
gave  you  notice  that  your  allowance  was  to  cease,  I  had  for 
some  years  lost  track  of  Monsieur  le  Marquis.  Of  what  use 
was  it,  then,  to  tell  you  the  history  of  the  past,  since  it  appar- 
ently could  have  no  effect  on  your  future  prospects  ? 

"I  decided  that  it  was  best  to  leave  you  in  complete  igno- 
rance, and  busied  myself  in  inventing  some  fiction  which, 
might  mislead  your  curiosity,  and  at  the  same  time  relieve 
me  from  the  long  privation  I  endured  by  avoiding  any  direct 
intercourse  with  you " 

"The  man  you  employed  as  your  representative,"  said  I, 
interrupting  him,  "was  well  chosen,  no  doubt,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  secrecy,  but  you  must  admit  that  he  is  not  at- 
tractive." 

"Poor  Gorenflot!'  said  the  organist,  laughing.  "He  is 
simply  one  of  the  parish  bell-ringers,  and  I  employ  him  to 
blow  the  organ.  I  do  not  know  whether  the  author  of  Notre- 
Dame  de  Paris  had  ever  seen  him  when  he  invented  Quasi- 
modo." 

During  this  parenthesis  an  absurd  sound  fell  on  our  ears ; 
a  distinct  snore  from  my  father  gave  us  to  understand  that 
either  he  took  very  little  interest  in  all  these  explanations 
given  in  his  name,  or  that  he  thought  them  too  prolix. 
Whether  it  was  his  conceit  as  an  orator  that  was  nettled,  or 
what  else  it  was  that  roused  Jacques  Bricheteau's  temper,  I 
know  not,  but  he  started  to  his  feet  with  annoyance,  and  vio- 
lently shook  the  sleeper's  arm,  exclaiming : 

"What,  Marquis! — if  you  sleep  like  this  when  sitting  in 
Council,  my  word !  the  country  must  be  well  governed !" 

M.  de  Sallenauve  opened  his  eyes,  shook  himself,  and  speak- 
ing to  me,  he  said : 

"Excuse  me,  M.  le  Comte,  but  I  have  traveled  post  for  ten 
days  and  nights  without  stopping,  in  order  to  be  in  timQ  to 


214  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

meet  you  here ;  and  though  I  spent  last  night  in  a  bed,  I  am 
still  rather  tired." 

He  then  rose,  took  a  large  pinch  of  snuff,  and  paced  the 
room,  while  Jacques  Bricheteau  went  on: 

"It  is  rather  more  than  a  year  since  I  first  heard  again  from 
your  father.  He  explained  his  long  silence  and  his  purposes 
for  you,  saying  that,  perhaps  for  some  years  to  come,  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  still  maintain  the  strictest 
incognito.  It  was  just  then  that  chance  threw  you  in  my 
way.  I  found  you  prepared  to  rush  into  any  folly  to  get  to  the 
bottom  of  the  secret  of  which  you  could  no  longer  doubt  the 
existence " 

"You  are  good  at  a  quick  removal !"  said  I,  with  a  laugh 
to  the  erewhile  lodger  of  the  Qua!  de  Bethune. 

"I  did  better  than  that.  Tormented  by  the  idea  that,  in 
spite  of  my  efforts,  you  would  succeed  in  piercing  the  dark- 
ness I  had  so  elaborately  left  you  in,  and  at  the  very  moment 
when  M.  le  Marquis  might  think  it  most  indispensable " 

"You  set  out  for  Stockholm  ?" 

•     "No,  for  your  father's  residence;  but  I  posted  at  Stock- 
holm the  letter  he  gave  me  for  you." 

"But  I  do  not  quite  understand " 

"Nothing  can  be  simpler,"  said  the  Marquis  decisively.  "I 
do  not  live  in  Sweden,  and  we  wished  to  put  you  off  the  scent." 

"Would  you  wish  to  tell  the  rest  of  the  story  yourself?" 
said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  though  not  seeming  anxious  to  be 
superseded  in  his  narrative;  for,  as  you  see,  he  has  an  easy 
and  elegant  flow  of  language. 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all — go  on,"  said  the  Marquis ;  "you  are 
doing  it  admirably." 

"The  presence  here  of  M.  le  Marquis,"  Jacques  Bricheteau 
went  on,  "will  not,  as  I  must  warn  you,  immediately  clear  up 
all  the  mysteries  which  have  hitherto  complicated  your  rela- 
tions. For  the  furtherance  of  your  future  prospects,  and  of 
his  own,  he  reserves  the  right  of  leaving  you  in  ignorance 
for  some  time  yet  of  the  name  of  the  country  where  he  hopes 
to  see  you  invited  to  succeed  him,  and  of  certain  other  details 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  215 

of  his  biography.  In  fact,  he  is  here  this  day  chiefly  with  a 
view  to  avoiding  further  explanations,  and  to  renew  the 
lease,  so  to  speak,  of  your  patient  curiosity.  Having  observed 
that  your  equivocal  family  circumstances  were  likely  to  in- 
volve you  in  difficulties  in  the  political  career  you  are  enter- 
ing on,  or,  at  least,  in  mortifications,  on  my  making  a  remark 
to  that  effect  in  one  of  my  letters,  your  father  determined  to 
delay  no  longer  the  legal  and  official  recognition  which  the 
extinction  of  all  his  family  made  so  desirable  for  you ;  and  he 
set  out  from  his  distant  residence  to  carry  it  into  effect. 

"The  recognition  and  legitimization  of  a  natural  son  is 
a  serious  matter,  surrounded  by  legal  complications.  An 
authenticated  affidavit  must  be  taken  in  the  presence  of  a 
notary;  and  even  though  the  father's  personal  deposition 
can  be  represented  by  a  specially  prepared  document,  M.  le 
Marquis  thought  that  the  formalities  indispensable  to  make 
this  power  of  attorney  effective  might  divulge  the  secret  of 
his  identity,  not  only  to  your  disadvantage,  but  in  the  foreign 
land  where  he  is  married,  and  to  some  extent  naturalized; 
and  that  secret  it  is  still  incumbent  on  him  to  keep  for  a 
time.  This  decided  him.  He  made  an  excuse  to  take  a  few 
weeks'  absence,  arrived,  posting  all  the  way,  and  taking  me 
by  surprise,  arranged  for  our  meeting  here. 

"In  the  course  of  such  a  long  and  hurried  journey  he 
feared  that  the  considerable  sum  of  money  he  is  devoting 
to  secure  your  election  might  not  be  quite  safe  in  his  keeping, 
and  he  therefore  transmitted  it  through  his  bankers,  to  be 
drawn  on  a  certain  day.  That  is  why,  on  your  arrival,  I 
asked  you  the  question  which  may  have  surprised  you. — Now 
I  have  to  ask  you  another  of  far  greater  importance :  Do  you 
consent  to  take  M.  de  Sallenauve's  name  and  be  acknowledged 
by  him  as  his  son?" 

"I  am  no  lawyer,"  said  I ;  "but  it  seems  to  me  that,  ever 
if  I  did  not  feel  highly  honored  by  it,  it  does  not  lie  in  my 
hands  to  decline  such  a  recognition." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau ;  "you  might 
be  the  son  of  a  very  undesirable  father,  and  find  it  to  your 


216  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

interest  to  dispute  the  relationship;  in  the  case  as  it  stands 
you  could  plead,  probably  with  success,  to  decline  the  favor 
proposed.  I  ought  also  to  tell  you — and  I  know  that  I  am. 
expressing  the  intentions  of  M.  le  Marquis — that  if  you  do 
not  think  a  man  who  has  already  spent  half  a  million  of  francs 
out  of  pocket  with  a  view  to  your  election  a  father  altogether 
to  your  mind,  we  leave  you  perfectly  free,  and  have  no  wish 
to  coerce  you." 

"Quite  so,  quite  so,"  said  M.  de  Sallenauve,  in  a  short,  sharp 
tone  and  the  thin  high  pipe  which  is  peculiar  to  these  relics 
of  the  old  aristocracy. 

Mere  politeness  required  me  to  say  that  I  was  only  too 
happy  to  accept  the  parentage  thus  pressed  on  me;  and  in 
reply  to  the  few  words  I  spoke  to  that  effect,  Jacques  Briche- 
teau  went  on : 

"And  we  do  not  ask  you  to  *buy  a  father  in  a  poke.' — Not 
so  much  with  a  view  to  command  your  confidence,  which  he 
believes  he  has  won,  as  to  enable  you  to  judge  of  the  family 
whose  name  you  will  bear,  M.  le  Marquis  will  place  before  yor., 
all  the  title-deeds  and  parchments  that  are  in  his  possession  ; 
and  besides  this,  though  it  is  a  long  time  since  he  left  France, 
he  can  prove  his  identity  by  the  evidence  of  his  still  living 
contemporaries,  which  will  serve  to  corroborate  the  validity 
of  the  act  he  will  put  his  name  to. — For  instance,  among  the 
persons  of  unimpeachable  honor  who  have  already  recognized 
him,  I  may  mention  the  venerable  Mother  Superior  of  the 
Ursuline  Sisters  here,  Mother  Marie  des  Anges — for  whom, 
I  may  add,  you  have  executed  a  masterpiece." 

"Yes,  on  my  honor,  a  very  pretty  thing,"  said  the  Marquis. 
"If  you  are  as  strong  in  politics " 

"Well,  then,  Marquis,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  who 
seemed  to  me  a  little  overbearing,  "will  you  and  our  young 
friend  proceed  to  verify  those  family  papers?" 

"It  is  quite  unnecessary,"  said  I. 

And  I  must  own  that  it  did  not  seem  to  me  that  I  was  i  un- 
ning  any  great  risk;  for,  after  all,  of  what  consequence  were 
such  papers  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  might  have  forged  or 
stolen  them? 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  217 

But  my  father  would  iiot  let  me  off;  for  more  than  two 
hours  he  spread  before  me  deeds,  pedigrees,  settlements,  letters 
patent,  a  thousand  documents,  to  prove  that  the  Sallenauves 
are,  with  the  exception  of  the  Cinq-Cygnes,  one  of  the  oldest 
families  in  the  Province  of  Champagne  generally,  and  of  the 
department  of  the  Aube  in  particular.  I  may  add  that  this 
display  of  archives  had  a  running  accompaniment  of  endless 
details  in  words,  which  certainly  gave  the  identity  of  the  last 
Marquis  de  Sallenauve  a  very  convincing  semblance  of  genu- 
ineness. 

On  all  other  subjects  my  father  is  apt  to  be  laconic;  his 
mind  is  not,  I  should  say,  remarkably  open,  and  he  is  always 
ready  to  leave  his  Chancellor  to  speak  for  him.  But  on  the 
subject  of  his  family  papers  he  was  bewilderingly  full  of 
anecdotes,  reminiscences,  and  heraldic  information;  in  short, 
the  complete  gentleman  of  an  older  time,  ignorant  or  super- 
ficial on  most  subjects,  but  a  Benedictine  for  erudition  on 
everything  connected  with  his  ancestors. 

There  we  should  have  sat,  I  believe,  till  now  but  for 
Bricheteau's  intervention:  as  he  saw  the  Marquis  preparing 
to  complete  his  endless  chronicle  by  reading  aloud  to  me  a 
voluminous  memorial,  intended  to  refute  a  certain  passage  in 
the  Historiettes  of  Tallemant  des  Reaux,  which  was  not  writ- 
ten to  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  Sallenauves,  the  judicious 
organist  remarked  that  it  was  dinner-time  if  we  meant  to 
arrive  punctually  at  seven  at  Maitre  Achille  Pigoult's  office, 
as  had  been  arranged. 

So  we  dined,  not  at  the  table  d'hote,  but  in  a  private  room. 
There  was  nothing  remarkable  about  the  meal,  unless  it  were 
the  length  of  time  it  lasted  in  consequence  of  the  absorbed 
silence  and  slowness  of  the  Marquis'  deglutition,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  loss  of  all  his  teeth. 

So  by  seven  o'clock  we  were  at  Maitre  Pigoult's 

But  it  is  near  on  two  in  the  morning,  and  I  am  dropping 
asleep ;  so,  till  to-morrow, — when,  if  I  have  time,  I  will  go  on 
with  this  letter  and  the  circumstantial  account  of  all  that  took 
place  in  the  notary's  office.  However,  you  know  the  upshot 


218  THE  MEMBER  FOB  ARCIS 

of  it  all,  like  a  man  who  turns  to  the  page  of  a  novel  to  see 
whether  Evelina  marries  her  Arthur,  and  you  may  let  me  off 
the  details.  As  I  step  into  bed,  I  shall  say  to  myself:  Good- 
night, M.  de  Sallenauve. 

In  fact,  that  old  rascal  Bricheteau  was  clumsy  enough  in 
foisting  on  me  such  a  name  as  Dorlange;  it  was  only  fit  for 
some  hero  of  romance  under  the  Empire,  or  one  of  the  pro- 
vincial tenors  on  the  lookout  for  an  engagement  under  the 
meagre  shade  of  the  Palais-Eoyal.  You  will  owe  me  no 
grudge,  I  trust,  for  leaving  you  in  favor  of  my  bed,  where  I 
shall  fall  asleep  to  the  soft  murmurs  of  the  Aube.  In  the 
unspeakable  stillness  of  the  night  in  a  small  country  town, 
I  can  hear  its  ripples  from  this  room. 

May  4,  five  in  the  morning. 

I  had  counted  on  slumbers  gladdened  by  the  fairest  dreams ; 
and  I  had  not  been  asleep  one  hour  when  I  woke,  stung  to  the 
quick  by  a  horrible  thought.  But  before  communicating  it  to 
you — for  it  really  has  no  common-sense — -I  must  tell  you 
what  took  place  last  evening  at  the  notary's.  Some  of  the 
incidents  of  that  scene  may  perhaps  have  had  something  to  do 
with  the  phantasmagoria  that  have  since  danced  through  my 
brain.  After  Maitre  Pigoult's  maid-servant,  a  country  wench 
of  the  purest  breed,  had  led  us  through  an  office  of  the  most 
venerably  antique  type — where,  however,  no  clerks  were  to  be 
seen  working  in  the  evening,  as  in  Paris — she  showed  us  into 
her  master's  private  room,  a  large  room,  cold  and  damp,  and 
barely  lighted  by  two  composition  candles  on  the  desk.  Not- 
withstanding a  sharp  north  wind  that  was  blowing,  in  honor 
of  the  poet's  month  of  May  and  of  the  spring,  as  declared  by 
law  at  this  season  of  the  year,  there  was  no  fire  on  the  hearth, 
though  the  wood  was  laid  for  a  cheerful  blaze. 

Maitre  Achille  Pigoult,  a  feeble  little  man,  much  marked 
with  small-pox,  and  afflicted  with  green  spectacles,  over  which, 
however,  he  can  flash  a  look  of  great  keenness  and  intelligence, 
asked  us  if  we  found  the  room  warm  enough.  On  our  reply- 
ing in  the  affirmative — which  he  must  have  seen  was  a  mere 


THE    MEMBER    FOR   ARCIS  219 

form  of  politeness — he  had  carried  his  incendiary,  purpose  so 
far  as  to  strike  a  match,  when,  from  one  of  the  darkest  corners 
of  the  room,  a  broken  and  quavering  voice,  whose  owner  we 
had  not  yet  discerned,  opposed  this  lavish  extravagance. 

"No,  no,  Achille,  do  not  light  the  fire,"  cried  the  old  man. 
"There  are  five  of  us  in  the  room;  the  candles  give  a  good 
deal  of  heat,  and  we  shall  be  suffocated  before  long." 

To  these  words  of  this  hot-blooded  Nestor,  the  Marquis  ex- 
claimed : 

"Why,  it  is  worthy  M.  Pigoult,  the  old  justice  of  the 
peace !" 

The  old  man,  thus  recognized,  rose  and  came  up  to  my 
father,  whom  he  examined  narrowly. 

"To  be  sure !"  said  he.  "And  I  know  you  for  a  native  of 
the  province,  of  the  old  block ;  Achille  told  me  the  truth  when 
he  promised  me  that  I  should  meet  two  old  acquaintances. 
You,"  said  he  to  the  organist,  "are  little  Bricheteau,  nephew 
to  the  good  Mother-Superior  Marie  des  Anges.  But  that  tall 
fellow,  with  his  face  like  a  duke — I  cannot  put  a  name  to  him 
— and  you  must  not  be  too  hard  on  my  memory,  for  after 
eighty-six  years  of  hard  service — it  has  a  right  to  be  a  little 
stiff  in  the  joints." 

"Now,  then,  grandfather,"  said  Achille  Pigoult,  "try  to 
furbish  up  your  recollections — and  you,  gentlemen,  not  a 
word,  not  a  hint. — I  want  to  enlighten  my  faith.  I  have  not 
the  honor  of  knowing  the  client  on  whose  behalf  I  am  about 
to  act,  and,  to  be  strictly  regular,  proof  of  his  identity  is  re- 
quired. The  act  of  Louis  XII.,  passed  in  1498,  and  of  Fran- 
gois  I.  confirming  it,  in  1535,  make  this  imperative  on  notaries 
— gardes-notes  as  they  were  called — to  forefend  any  substitu- 
tion of  parties  to  such  deeds.  The  law  is  too  reasonable  to 
have  fallen  into  desuetude;  and,  for  my  part,  I  should  not 
have  the  smallest  respect  for  the  validity  of  an  act  if  it  could 
be  proved  that  such  identification  had  been  neglected." 

While  his  son  was  speaking,  old  Pigoult  had  been  racking 
his  memory.  My  father,  by  good  luck,  has  a  queer  nervous 
twitch  of  his  features,  which  was  naturally  aggravated  under 


220  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

the  steady  gaze  of  the  certifier.  On  seeing  this  muscular 
movement,  the  old  lawyer  at  last  spotted  his  man. 

"Ah,  I  have  it !"  he  exclaimed.  "Monsieur  is  the  Marquis 
de  Sallenauve — the  man  we  used  to  call  the  Grimacier — who 
would,  at  this  day,  be  the  master  of  the  Chateau  d'Arcis  if  he 
had  but  married  his  pretty  cousin,  who  had  it  for  her  marriage 
portion,  instead  of  going  off  with  the  rest  of  the  madmen  as 
an  emigre." 

"Still  a  bit  of  a  sans-culotte,  it  would  seem,"  said  the  Mar- 
quis, laughing. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  notary  impressively,  "the  test  I  had 
planned  seems  to  me  to  be  decisive.  This  evidence  and  the 
papers  which  M.  le  Marquis  has  been  good  enough  to  submit 
to  me,  leaving  them  in  my  hands,  together  with  the  certificate 
of  identity  forwarded  to  me  by  Mother  Marie  des  Anges,  who 
is  prohibited  by  the  rules  of  her  house  from  coming  to  my 
office,  certainly  justify  us  in  completing  the  deeds  which  I 
have  already  prepared.  One  of  them  requires  the  signature  of 
two  witnesses.  For  one,  we  have  here  M.  Bricheteau ;  for  the 
other,  my  father,  if  you  will  accept  him,  and  the  honor,  it 
seems  to  me,  is  his  by  right,  for  we  may  say  he  has  won  it  at 
the  point  of  his  memory." 

"Well,  then,  gentlemen,  let  us  take  our  seats!"  exclaimed 
Bricheteau  enthusiastically. 

The  notary  seated  himself  at  his  table;  we  made  a  semi- 
circle, and  he  began  to  read  the  deeds.  The  object  in  view 
was  set  forth — to  authenticate  the  recognition  by  Frangois- 
Henri-Pantaleon  Dumirail,  Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  of  his 
son,  in  my  person ;  but  here  a  difficulty  arose.  Deeds  under  a 
notary's  certificate  must  mention  the  place  of  residence  of  the 
contracting  parties,  otherwise  they  are  void.  Now,  where 
did  my  father  reside?  A  blank  space  had  been  left  by  the 
notary,  who  wished  to  fill  it  up  before  proceeding  any  further. 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  Pigoult,  "it  would  seem  that  M. 
le  Marquis  has  no  place  of  residence  in  France,  since,  in  fact, 
he  does  not  reside  in  the  country,  and  has  for  many  years 
owned  no  land  in  it." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  221 

"That  is  true/'  said  the  Marquis,  in  a  graver  tone  than  the 
remark  seemed  to  call  for ;  "in  France  I  am  but  a  vagabond." 

"Aha !"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  "but  vagabonds  like  you, 
who  can  hand  over  on  the  nail  such  gifts  to  a  son  as  the  sum 
needed  to  purchase  a  mansion,  are  not  beggars  we  need  waste 
our  pity  on.  At  the  same  time,  what  you  say  is  true — equally 
true  in  France  or  elsewhere — for  with  your  mania  for  eter- 
nally wandering  it  seems  to  me  pretty  difficult  to  name  your 
place  of  residence." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Achille  Pigoult,  "we  will  not  be  brought 
to  a  standstill  by  such  a  trifle  as  that. — Monsieur,"  and  he 
turned  to  me,  "is  now  the  owner  of  the  Chateau  d'Arcis,  for 
an  agreement  to  sell  is  equivalent  to  a  sale  when  the  parties 
are  agreed  as  to  the  terms  and  price.  Then,  what  can  be  more 
natural  than  that  the  father's  domicile  should  be  stated  as  at 
one  of  his  son's  estates ;  especially  when  it  is  family  property 
recovered  to  the  original  owners  by  purchase  for  that  son's 
benefit,  though  paid  for  by  the  father;  when,  moreover,  that 
father  was  born  in  the  place  where  the  said  residence  or  domi- 
cile is  situated,  and  is  known  and  recognized  by  residents 
of  standing  whenever,  at  long  intervals,  he  chooses  to 
visit  it  ?" 

"Quite  right,"  said  old  Pigoult,  yielding  without  hesitation 
to  the  argument  set  forth  by  his  son,  in  that  emphatic  tone 
peculiar  to  men  of  business  when  they  believe  they  have  laid 
their  finger  on  a  conclusive  opinion. 

"Certainly,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  "if  you  think  the 
thing  can  be  worked  so " 

"You  see  that  my  father,  a  man  of  great  experience,  does 
not  hesitate  to  support  my  opinion. — So  we  will  say,"  added 
the  notary,  taking  up  his  pen :  "  'Frangois-Henri-Pantaleon 
Dumirail,  Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  residing  with  M.  Charles 
de  Sallenauve,  his  natural  son  legitimized  by  this  act,  in  the 
house  known  as  the  Chateau  d'Arcis  in  the  district  of  Arcis- 
sur-Aube,  department  of  the  Aube.' ''  — And  the  rest  of  the 
deed  was  read  without  any  hitch. 

Then  followed  a  very  ridiculous  little  scene. 


222  THE  MEMBER  FOE  ARCIS 

All  having  signed,  while  we  were  still  standing  there, 
Jacques  Bricheteau  said : 

"Now,  M.  le  Comte,  embrace  your  father." 

My  father  opened  his  arms  with  no  small  indifference,  and 
I  coldly  fell  into  them,  vexed  with  myself,  however,  for  not 
being  more  deeply  moved  or  feeling  in  my  heart  the  glow  of 
kindred  blood. 

Were  this  coldness  and  dryness  the  result  of  my  rapid  in- 
crease of  fortune  ? — At  any  rate,  immediately  after,  by  another 
deed  which  we  had  to  listen  to,  I  became,  in  consideration  of 
a  sum  of  a  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  francs  in  ready 
money,  possessor  of  the  Chateau  d'Arcis,  a  fine  large  house 
which  I  had  noticed  from  afar,  lording  it  over  the  country 
with  quite  a  feudal  air,  though  the  prophetic  voice  of  the 
proprietor  was  no  more  heard  within  me  than  that  of  blood 
relationship.  The  importance  of  this  property  as  bearing  on 
my  election,  even  if  I  had  not  been  instinctively  aware  of  it, 
would  have  been  made  clear  to  me  by  a  few  words  that  passed 
between  the  notary  and  Jacques  Bricheteau.  After  the  man- 
ner of  sellers,  who  will  still  run  up  the  value  of  their  goods 
even  after  they  have  parted  with  them: 

"You  may  think  yourselves  lucky,"  said  Achille  Pigoult; 
"you  have  got  that  estate  for  a  mere  song." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense !"  retorted  Bricheteau.  "How  long 
have  you  had  it  on  your  hands  ?  To  anybody  else  your  client 
would  have  sold  it  for  fifty  thousand  crowns,  but  as  a  family 
property  you  made  us  pay  for  the  chance  of  having  it.  We 
shall  have  to  spend  twenty  thousand  francs  in  making  it  hab- 
itable ;  the  ground  will  hardly  return  four  thousand  francs  a 
year ;  so  our  money,  including  expenses,  will  not  bring  in  two 
and  a  half  per  cent." 

"What  have  you  to  complain  of  ?"  replied  the  notary ;  "you 
will  have  to  employ  labor,  and  that  is  not  bad  luck  for  a 
candidate." 

"Ah,  that  election,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau.  "We  will 
talk  that  over  to-morrow  when  we  come  to  pay  over  the  money 
for  tlv  house,  and  our  debt  to  you." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  223 

Thereupon  we  came  away,  and  returned  to  the  Hotel  de  la 
Poste,  where,  after  saying  good-night  to  my  father  and  his 
mouthpiece,  I  retired  to  my  room  to  chat  with  you. 

And  now  for  the  .dreadful  idea  which  drove  away  sleep  and 
made  me  take  up  my  pen  again ;  I  must  tell  you  what  it  was, 
though,  having  relieved  myself  a  little  by  writing  these  two 
pages,  it  does  not  seem  to  me  so  pressingly  evident  as  it  did 
just  now.  One  thing  at  least  is  certain — everything  that  has 
'  come  into  my  life  during  the  past  year  is  prodigiously  ro- 
mantic. You  will  perhaps  say  that  adventures  seem  to  form 
the  natural  current  of  my  life ;  that  my  birth,  the  coincidence 
that  threw  us  together  with  a  strange  similarity  of  fate,  my 
position  with  regard  to  Marianina,  and  my  handsome  house- 
keeper, even  my  meeting  and  acquaintance  with  Mme.  de 
1'Estorade,  seem  to  suggest  that  I  was  born  under  a  whimsical 
star,  and  that  I  am  even  now  living  under  the  influence  of  one 
of  its  vagaries.  Absolutely  true.  Still,  if  at  the  same  time, 
and  under  the  same  influence,  I  should  be  involved,  without 
knowing  it,  in  some  diabolical  plot  of  which  I  am  being  made 
the  passive  tool ! 

To  give  my  ideas  some  little  order,  I  will  begin  at  that  half 
million  of  francs  spent,  as  you  must  allow,  on  a  somewhat 
nebulous  dream — that  of  one  day  possibly  seeing  me  a  Minis- 
ter to  some  imaginary 'court  heaven  knows  where,  the  name 
being  carefully  concealed.  And  who  is  it  that  lavishes  such 
fabulous  sums  on  me  ?  A  father  tenderly  devoted  to  the  child 
of  a  lost  love? — No — a  father  whose  demeanor  is  absolutely 
cold,  who  goes  to  sleep  while  the  balance-sheet,  as  it  were,  of 
our  reciprocal  relations  is  being  read  to  me;  for  whom  I  on 
my  part,  and  more's  the  pity,  have  no  sympathy,  whom  I 
should,  in  fact,  describe  as  an  old  owl  of  an  emigre,  but  for 
the  filial  respect  and  affection  I  try  to  feel. — But  now,  I  say, 
supposing  this  man  were  not  my  father,  were  not  even  the 
Marquis  de  Sallenauve.  as  he  assumes  to  be;  supposing  that, 
like  that  luckless  Lucien  de  Kubempre — whose  story  made 
such  a  noise  at  the  time — I  were  wrapped  in  the  coils  of  some 
serpent  of  the  type  of  the  sham  priest  Carlos  Herrera,  and  to 
wake  presently  to  the  frightful  truth ! 


224  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"What  possible  chance  is  there  of  that?"  you  will  say. 
"Carlos  Herrera  had  an  object  in  fascinating  Lucien  de  Bu- 
bempre ;  but  what  hold  can  any  one  have  over  you,  a  man  of 
principle,  who  have  never  looked  for  luxury,  who  have  led  a 
life  of  study  and  hard  work  ? — and  above  all,  what  is  to  be  got 
out  of  you  ?" 

Well  and  good.  But  is  the  professed  and  apparent  object 
of  these  men  any  clearer  ?  Why  does  the  man  who  recognizes 
me  as  his  son  conceal  the  name  of  the  place  he  lives  in,  and  that 
by  which  he  himself  is  known  in  the  unknown  northern  land 
where  he  is  said  to  hold  office?  Why  so  little  confidence  and 
so  many  sacrifices  on  my  behalf? — And  does  it  seem  to  you 
that,  in  spite  of  his  lengthy  explanations,  Jacques  Bricheteau 
has  satisfactorily  accounted  for  the  mystery  in  which  he  has 
wrapped  my  life?  Why  his  dwarf?  Why  his  impudent 
denial  of  his  own  identity  the  first  time  I  addressed  him? 
Why  that  frantic  flitting? 

All  this,  my  dear  fellow,  whirling  in  my  brain  and  culmi- 
nating in  the  five  hundred  thousand  francs  paid  over  to  me  by 
the  brothers  Mongenod,  seems  to  lend  substance  to  a  queer 
notion,  at  which  you  will  laugh  perhaps,  but  which  is  not 
without  foundation  in  the  annals  of  crime.  As  I  said  at  first, 
I  was  invaded  by  it,  and  its  suddenness  seems  to  give  it  the 
character  of  an  instinctive  apprehension.  One  thing  is  cer- 
tain :  If  I  had  had  the  most  distant  inkling  of  it  last  evening, 
I  would  have  had  my  hand  cut  off  sooner  than  sign  that  deed, 
binding  up  my  life  and  fortunes  with  those  of  a  stranger 
whose  destiny  may  be  as  dark  as  a  canto  of  Dante's  inferno, 
and  who  may  drag  me  with  him  into  the  blackest  depths. 

In  short,  this  idea — while  I  am  making  you  beat  about  the 
bush,  not  liking  to  be  frank  with  you — is  in  its  blank  crudity 
just  this :  I  am  afraid  lest  I  am  unwittingly  the  agent  of  one 
of  those  associations  of  coiners  who,  in  order  to  put  their 
spurious  currency  into  circulation,  have  been  frequently  dis- 
covered by  justice  in  the  act  of  conspiracies  and  schemes 
quite  as  complicated  and  inextricable  as  this  with  which  I 
am  now  mixed  up.  In  these  trials  we  constantly  see  that  the 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  225 

accomplices  make  many  and  long  journeys ;  they  deal  in  bills 
drawn  in  remote  spots  on  banks  in  important  commercial 
centres,  or  in  such  capital  cities  as  Stockholm,  Eotterdam,  or 
Paris.  And  we  constantly  find  their  unhappy  dupes  impli- 
cated in  the  case.  Now  in  this  man  Bricheteau's  mysterious 
proceedings,  do  you  not  detect  a  sort  of  imitation  or  mimicry 
of  the  manoeuvres  to  which  these  ingenious  criminals  have 
recourse,  using  them  with  such  talent  and  imaginative  skill  as 
romance- writers  might  long  for  ? 

As  you  may  suppose,  I  have  represented  to  myself  every 
argument  that  can  tell  against  this  gloomy  view  of  the  case; 
and  if  I  do  not  state  them  here,  it  is  because  I  wish  to  have 
them  from  you,  and  so  give  them  a  value  which  they  would 
cease  to  have  if  I  had  inspired  them.  Of  one  thing  I  am 
certain :  I  am  living  in  an  unwholesome  atmosphere,  thick  and 
heavy ;  I  want  air,  and  I  cannot  breathe. 

Still,  if  you  can,  reassure  ine,  convince  me ;  I  shall  be  only 
glad,  as  you  may  well  suppose,  to  find  it  all  a  bad  dream.  But, 
at  any  rate,  no  later  than  to-morrow  I  mean  to  have  an  ex- 
planation with  both  these  men,  and  get  a  little  more  light  on 
the  subject  than  has  as  yet  been  vouchsafed  me. 

Here  is  a  new  aspect  to  the  story.  While  I  was  writing 
I  heard  the  clatter  of  horses  in  the  street.  Having  grown 
distrustful,  and  inclined  to  take  a  serious  view  of  every  inci- 
dent, I  opened  my  window,  and  by  the  pale  light  of  daybreak  I 
saw  at  the  inn  door  a  post-chaise — horses,  postilion,  and  all — 
ready  to  start,  and  Jacques  Bricheteau  talking  to  somebody 
inside,  whose  face  was  hidden  by  the  peak  of  his  traveling 
cap.  I  acted  at  once :  I  ran  downstairs ;  but  before  I  reached 
the  bottom,  I  heard  the  dull  clatter  of  wheels  and  the  ringing 
cracks  of  the  whip — a  sort  of  parting  song  with  all  postilions. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  I  stood  face  to  face  with  Jacques 
Bricheteau. 

Not  in  the  least  embarrassed,  he  said,  with  perfect  sim- 
plicity :  "What !  up  already,  my  dear  boy  ?" 


226  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Of  course,"  said  I,  "the  least  I  could  do  was  to  say  good' 
bye  to  my  most  kind  father." 

"He  did  not  wish  it,"  said  the  confounded  musician,  with  a 
cool  solemnity  that  made  me  long  to  thrash  him.  "He  was 
afraid  of  the  agitation  of  a  parting." 

"He  is  in  a  devil  of  a  hurry,"  said  I,  "if  he  could  not  spare 
one  day  to  his  brand-new  paternity." 

"What  can  I  say  ?  He  is  an  oddity.  He  has  done  what  he 
came  to  do,  and  he  saw  no  reason  to  remain  any  longer." 

"To  be  sure,  the  high  functions  he  fulfils  in  that  northern 
court " 

There  could  be  no  mistake  as  to  the  deeply  ironical  tone 
with  which  I  spoke. 

"Till  now,"  said  Bricheteau,  "you  have  put  more  trust 
in  us." 

"Yes,  but  I  confess  that  my  confidence  is  beginning  to  be 
shaken  by  the  ponderous  mysteries  that  are  so  unmercifully 
and  incessantly  piled  upon  it." 

"I  should  really  be  most  distressed,"  said  Jacques  Briche- 
teau, "at  seeing  you  give  way,  at  this  critical  moment,  to  these 
doubts,  which  are  certainly  justified  by  the  way  you  have  been 
dealt  with  during  so  many  years,  if  I  had  none  but  personal 
arguments  or  statements  to  countervail  them.  But  you  may 
remember  that  old  Pigoult,  last  evening,  spoke  of  an  aunt  of 
mine  in  these  parts,  and  you  will  see  before  long  that  she  is 
a  person  of  considerable  importance.  I  may  add  that  her 
sacred  dignity  gives  absolute  authority  to  her  word.  I  had 
arranged  that  we  should  see  her  in  any  case  to-day ;  but  give 
me  only  time  to  shave  myself,  and  in  spite  of  its  being  so  early 
we  will  go  at  once  to  the  Ursuline  convent.  You  can  then 
question  Mother.  Marie  des  Anges,  who  is  regarded  as  a  saint 
throughout  the  department  of  the  Aube,  and  by  the  end  of  the 
interview,  I  fancy,  no  cloud  will  hang  between  us." 

All  the  time  this  strange  man  was  talking  his  countenance 
was  so  unmistakably  honest  and  benevolent;  his  language — 
always  calm,  elegant,  and  moderate — is  so  persuasive  to  his 
audience,  that  I  felt  the  tide  of  my  wrath  ebbing  and  my  confi- 
dence reviving. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  227 

In  fact,  the  answer  was  final.  The  Ursuline  convent,  bless 
me !  cannot  be  a  mint  for  false  coin ;  and  if  Mother  Marie  des 
Anges  will  answer  for  my  father,  as  it  would  seem  she  has 
already  done  to  the  notary,  I  should  be  mad  to  feel  any  fur- 
ther doubts. 

"Very  well,"  said  I,  "I  will  go  upstairs  for  my  hat  and  wait 
for  you  on  the  bank  of  the  river." 

"Do  so.  And  keep  an  eye  on  the  door  of  the  inn  for  fear 
I  should  make  a  bolt,  as  I  did  from  the  Quai  de  Bethune !" 

The  man  is  as  clever  as  can  be;  he  seems  to  read  one's 
thoughts.  I  was  ashamed  of  my  distrust,  and  said  that  while 
waiting  I  would  finish  a  letter. — This  is  it,  my  dear  friend, 
and  I  must  now  close  it  and  post  it  if  it  is  to  reach  you  in  due 
time.  Another  day  I  will  tell  you  of  our  visit  to  the  convent. 

Marie-Gaston  to  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade. 

ARCIS-SUR-ATJBE,  May  6, 1839. 

MADAME, — I  should  in  any  case  have  availed  myself  with 
pleasure  of  your  commands  that  I  should  write  to  you  during 
my  stay  here ;  but  you  have  no  idea  how  great  was  your  kind- 
ness in  grating  me  so  precious  a  favor.  But  for  you,  madame, 
and  the  honor  I  may  have  of  occasionally  writing  to  you,  what 
would  become  of  me,  a  prey  to  the  accustomed  tyranny  of  my 
sad  thoughts,  in  a  town  where  there  is  no  society,  no  commerce, 
no  object  of  interest,  no  pretty  environs,  and  where  intellec- 
tual activity  is  limited  to  the  production  of  pickled  pork, 
soft  soap,  stockings,  and  cotton  night-caps? 

Dorlange,  whom  I  shall  not  continue  to  call  by  that  name — 
you  shall  presently  learn  why — is  so  much  absorbed  in  the 
cares  of  his  canvass  that  I  scarcely  ever  see  him.  I  told  you, 
madame,  that  I  was  about  to  join  our  friend  here  in  conse- 
quence of  some  disturbance  of  mind  that  I  was  aware  of  in  a 
letter  telling  me  of  a  great  change  in  his  life  and  prospects. 
I  am  now  allowed  to  be  more  explicit  on  the  subject — Dor- 
lange at  fast  knows  his  father.  He  is  the  natural  son  of  the 
Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  the  last  survivor  of  one  of  the  oldest 


228  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

families  of  this  province.  The  Marquis,  though  giving  no 
explanation  of  the  reasons  that  led  to  his  keeping  his  son's 
birth  so  profoundly  secret,  has  just  acknowledged  him  with 
every  legal  formality.  At  the  same  time,  he  has  purchased 
for  him  an  estate  which  had  long  since  ceased  to  belong  to  the 
Sallenauves,  and  which  will  now  again  be  a  family  possession. 
It  is  actually  in  Arcis,  and  it  seems  probable  that  it  may  be 
advantageous  to  the  electoral  schemes  just  now  under  dis- 
cussion. 

These  schemes  had  their  beginnings  longer  ago  than  we 
supposed,  and  they  did  not  take  their  rise  in  Dorlange's  brain. 
The  Marquis  began  his  preparations  above  a  year  since,  by 
sending  his  son  a  large  sum  to  enable  him  to  acquire  the  neces- 
sary qualification  by  the  purchase  of  a  freehold;  and  it  is 
with  a  view  to  smoothing  the  way  to  political  advancement 
that  he  has  given  his  son  a  name  and  title  and  property  in 
this  town. 

What  the  ultimate  purpose  may  be  of  such  considerable 
expenditure  the  Marquis  has  never  explained  to  Charles  de 
Sallenauve;  and  it  was  this  still  hazy  horizon  to  his  sky  that 
led  the  poor  fellow  to  such  apprehensions  that,  as  a  friend, 
I  could  do  no  less  than  hasten  to  alleviate  them.  The  Mar- 
quis, in  fact,  seems  to  be  as  eccentric  as  he  is  wealthy;  in- 
stead of  remaining  at  Arcis,  where  his  presence  and  his  name 
might  have  contributed  to  the  success  he  is  so  anxious  for, 
on  the  very  day  after  carrying  out  all  the  formalities  re- 
quired by  the  law,  he  set  out  privily  for  some  distant  country 
where  he  has,  it  would  seem,  some  important  function — not 
even  giving  his  son  the  opportunity  of  bidding  him  good-bye. 
This  coldness  has  a  good  deal  embittered  Charles'  satisfaction ; 
however,  fathers  must  be  taken  as  we  find  them,  for  Dorlange 
and  I  both  live  to  prove  that  they  are  not  to  be  had  for  the 
wishing. 

Another  whim  of  my  Lord  Marquis  is  having  selected  as  his 
son's  chief  elector  an  old  Ursuline  nun,  by  a  sort  of  bargain 
in  which  subsequently  you,  madame,  were  a  factor.  Yes; 
for  the  "Saint  Ursula"  for  which  you  unawares  were  the 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  229 

model  will  probably  have  no  little  influence  over  our  friend's 
return  to  Parliament. 

This  is  what  happened.  For  many  years  Mother  Marie  des 
Anges,  Superior  of  the  Ursuline  Sisters  at  Arcis-sur-Aube, 
had  dreamed  of  erecting  a  statue  of  the  patron  'saint  in  the 
convent  chapel.  But  the  Abbess,  being  a  woman  of  taste  and 
culture,  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  peddler's  images 
of  saints,  sold  ready-made  by  the  dealers ;  on  the  other  hand, 
she  could  not  in  conscience  rob  the  poor  of  a  sum  so  consider- 
able as  would  pay  for  a  work  of  art  on  commission.  This 
excellent  lady's  nephew  is  an  organist  in  Paris,  and  the  Mar- 
quis de  Sallenauve  while  he  was  traveling  all  over  the  world 
had  confided  his  son  to  this  man's  care;  for  all  these  years 
his  first  object  has  been  to  keep  the  poor  boy  in  absolute  igno- 
rance of  his  birth.  When  it  occurred  to  him  to  make  Salle- 
nauve a  deputy,  Arcis  was  naturally  thought  of  as  the  place 
where  his  family  was  still  remembered,  and  every  way  and 
means  was  considered  of  making  acquaintance,  and  utilizing 
all  possible  aids  to  his  election. 

Then  the  organist  remembered  his  aunt's  long-cherished 
ambition ;  he  knew  her  to  have  influence  in  the  district,  where 
she  is  in  great  odor  of  sanctity,  and  also  a  touch  of  the  spirit 
of  intrigue,  ever  ready  to  rush  into  an  affair  that  may  be  diffi- 
cult and  arduous.  He  went  to  see  her  with  the  Marquis  de 
Sallenauve's  concurrence,  and  told  her  that  one  of  the  most 
eminent  of  Paris  sculptors  was  prepared  to  offer  her  a  statue 
of  the  most  masterly  execution,  if  she,  on  her  part,  would  un- 
dertake to  secure  his  return  as  member  for  the  district  of  Arcis 
at  the  next  election. 

The  old  Abbess  did  not  think  this  at  all  beyond  her  powers. 
So  now  she  is  the  proud  possessor  of  the  object  of  her  pious 
ambition;  it  came  safely  to  hand  a  few  days  since,  and 
is  already  in  its  place  in  the  convent  chapel,  where,  ere 
long,  it  will  be  solemnly  dedicated.  Now  it  remains  to 
be  seen  how  the  good  Mother  will  perform  her  share  of  the 
bargain. 

Well,  madame,  strange  to  say,  all  things  weighed  and  coiv- 


230  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

sidered,  I  should  not  at  all  wonder  if  this  singular  .woman 
were  to  succeed.  From  the  description  given  me  by  Charles, 
Mother  Marie  des  Anges  is  a  little  woman,  short  but  thick- 
set, with  a  face  that  still  contrives  to  be  attractive  in  spite 
of  her  wrinkles  and  the  saffron-tinted  pallor  induced  by  time 
and  by  the  austerities  of  a  cloister.  She  carries  the  burden 
of  a  stout  figure  and  seventy-six  years  with  ease,  and  is  as 
quick,  bright,  and  spirited  as  the  youngest  of  us.  A  thoroughly 
capable  woman,  she  has  governed  her  House  for  fifty  years, 
and  it  has  always  been  the  best  regulated,  the  most  efficient, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  richest  convent  in  the  whole  diocese 
of  Troyes.  N"o  less  well  qualified  for  educating  girls — the 
great  end,  as  you  know,  of  the  Ursuliue  Sisterhoods — she  has 
for  the  same  length  of  time,  through  varying  fortunes,  man- 
aged a  lay  school  which  is  famous  in  the  department  and  in 
all  the  country  round.  Having  thus  presided  over  the  educa- 
tion of  almost  all  the  daughters  of  the  better  families  of  the 
province,  it  is  easy  to  understand  that  she  has  ubiquitous  in- 
fluence in  the  aristocratic  circles  of  Champagne,  for  a  well- 
conducted  education  always  leads  to  permanent  friendship 
between  teacher  and  pupils.  She  probably  knows  very  well 
how  to  turn  these  family  connections  to  the  best  advantage  in 
the  contest  she  has  pledged  herself  to  engage  in. 

It  would  seem,  too,  that  on  the  other  hand,  this  remarkable 
woman  can  absolutely  command  all  the  democratic  votes  in 
the  district.  So  far,  indeed,  on  the  scene  of  the  struggle,  this 
party  has  but  a  sickly  and  doubtful  existence ;  still,  it  is  by 
nature  active  and  busy,  and  it  is  under  that  flag,  with  some 
little  modifications,  that  our  candidate  comes  forward.  Hence, 
any  support  from  that  side  is  useful  and  important.  You, 
madame,  like  me,  will  certainly  admire  the  bicephalous  pow- 
ers, so  to  speak,  of  this  old  Abbess,  who  contrives  at  the  same 
time  to  be  in  good  odor  with  the  nobility  and  the  secular 
clergy,  while  wielding  the  conductor's  stick  for  the  radical 
party,  their  perennial  foes.  As  a  woman  of  admirable  charity 
and  enlightenment,  regarded  as  a  saint  by  the  country  folks, 
and  the  object  of  bitter  persecutions  during  the  Revolution, 


THE    MEMBER    FOE    ARCIS  231 

enduring  them  with  immense  fortitude,  it  is  easy  to  under- 
stand the  position  she  holds  among  the  higher  and  Conserva- 
tive circles;  but  that  she  should  be  no  less  welcome  to  demo- 
crats and  destructives  seems  almost  incredible. 

Her  great  influence  over  the  popular  party  is  based  on  a 
little  contest  she  once  had  with  them.  About  the  year  '93  that 
amiable  faction  proposed  to  cut  her  head  off.  Turned  out  of 
her  convent,  and  convicted  for  having  sheltered  a  contuma- 
cious priest,  she  was  imprisoned,  brought  before  the  revolu- 
tionary tribunal,  and  condemned  to  the  guillotine.  The  thing 
came  to  Danton's  knowledge;  he  was  then  a  member  of  the 
Convention.  Danton  had  been  acquainted  with  Mother  Marie 
des  Anges;  he  believed  her  to  be  the  most  virtuous  and  en- 
lightened woman  he  had  ever  seen.  On  hearing  of  her  sen- 
tence, he  flew  into  a  terrific  rage,  wrote  a  letter  from  his  high 
horse  to  the  revolutionary  municipality,  and  commanded  a 
respite  with  such  authority  as  no  man  in  Arcis  would  have 
dreamed  of  disputing.  He  stood  up  in  the  Tribune  that  very 
day;  and  after  alluding  in  general  terms  to  certain  sanglants 
imbeciles  whose  insane  folly  was  damaging  the  prospects  of 
the  Eevolution,  he  explained  who  and  what  Mother  Marie  des 
Anges  was,  spoke  of  her  wonderful  gifts  for  the  training  of 
the  young,  and  laid  before  the  meeting  a  sketch  for  a  decree 
by  which  she  was  to  be  placed  at  the  head  of  a  Great  National 
Gynecasum,  the  details  to  be  regulated  by  subsequent  enact- 
ment. 

Robespierre,  who  would  have  regarded  the  Ursuline  nun's 
superior  intelligence  as  an  additional  qualification  for  the 
scaffold,  was  not  that  day  present  at  the  sitting;  the  motion 
was  carried  with  enthusiasm.  As  Mother  Marie  des  Anges 
could  not  possibly  carry  out  the  decree  thus  voted  without  a 
head  on  her  shoulders,  she  was  allowed  to  retain  it,  and  the 
executioner  cleared  away  his  machinery.  And  though  the 
former  decree,  authorizing  the  Grand  National  Gynecaeum, 
was  presently  forgotten,  the  Convention  having  quite  other 
matters  to  occupy  it,  the  good  Sister  carried  it  out  on  her  own 
lines;  and  instead  of  something  Grand,  Greek,  and  National, 


232  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

with  the  help  of  some  of  her  former  associates  she  started  a 
simple  lay  school  at  Arcis,  to  which,  as  soon  as  order  was  to 
some  degree  restored  in  the  land  and  in  men's  minds,  pupils 
flocked  from  all  the  neighboring  country. 

Under  the  Emperor,  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  reconstituted 
her  House,  and  her  first  act  of  government  was  a  signal  piece 
of  gratitude.  She  decided  that  on  the  5th  of  April  every 
year,  the  anniversary  of  Danton's  death,  Mass  should  be  said 
in  the  convent  chapel  for  the  repose  of  his  soul. 

To  some  who  objected  to  this  service  for  the  dead — 

"Do  you  know  many  persons,"  she  would  reply,  "for  whom 
it  is  more  necessary  to  implore  Divine  mercy?" 

After  the  Eestoration,  the  performance  of  this  Mass  became 
a  matter  of  some  little  difficulty ;  but  Mother  Marie  des  Anges 
would  never  give  it  up,  and  the  veneration  with  which  she  was 
regarded  even  by  those  who  were  most  set  against  what  they 
called  a  scandal,  ended  in  their  making  the  best  of  it.  Under 
the  July  Eevolution,  as  you  may  suppose,  this  courageous 
perversity  had  its  reward.  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  is  now  in 
high  favor  at  Court ;  there  is  nothing  she  cannot  obtain  from 
the  most  august;  persons  in  command;  still,  it  is  but  fair  to 
add  that  she  asks  for  nothing,  not  even  to  help  the  poor ;  she 
finds  the  means  of  supplying  most  of  their  wants  by  her  judi- 
cious economy  in  dealing  with  the  funds  of  the  community. 
What  is  even  more  obvious  is  that  her  gratitude  to  the  great 
revolutionary  leader  is  a  strong  recommendation  to  that 
party;  this,  however,  is  not  the  whole  secret  of  her  influence 
with  them.  The  representative  in  Arcis  of  the  extreme  Left 
is  a  wealthy  miller,  named  Laurent  Goussard,  who  owns  two 
or  three  mills  on  the  river  Aube.  It  was  this  man,  formerly 
a  member  of  the  revolutionary  municipality  of  Arcis,  and  a 
particular  friend  of  Danton's,  who  wrote  to  that  terrible 
Cordelier  to  tell  him  of  the  axe  that  hung  over  the  Ursuline 
prioress'  head,  though  this  did  not  hinder  that  worthy  sans- 
culotte from  purchasing  a  large  part  of  the  convent  lands 
when  they  were  sold  as  nationalized  property. 

Then,  when  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  was  enabled  to  re- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  233 

constitute  her  Sisterhood,  Laurent  Goussard,  who  had  not  as 
it  happened  found  the  estate  very  profitable,  came  to  the 
worthy  Abbess  and  proposed  to  reinstate  her  in  the  former 
possessions  of  the  Abbey.  Laurent  Goussard,  a  man  with  a 
keen  eye  to  business,  whose  niece  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  had 
brought  up  gratuitously  (the  young  lady  died  in  Paris  in 
1809),  affected  to  make  this  a  point  of  honor,  offering  to  re- 
store to  the  community  the  lands  he  had  bought  for  the  price 
he  had  paid  for  them.  The  good  man  was  not  making  a  bad 
bargain;  the  mere  difference  of  value  between  silver  and  the 
assignats  he  had  paid  in  was  a  handsome  turn  of  profit.  But 
Mother  Marie  des  Anges,  who  had  not  forgotten  that  but  for 
his  intervention  Danton  could  have  known  nothing,  deter- 
mined to  do  better  than  that  for  the  man  who  had  really 
saved  her  life.  The  Ursuline  Sisterhood,  when  Laurent 
Goussard  proposed  this  arrangement,  was,  financially  speak- 
ing, in  a  flourishing  position.  Since  its  re-establishment  it 
had  come  in  for  some  liberal  donations,  and  the  Mother  Su- 
perior had  put  away  a  considerable  sum  during  her  long  man- 
agement of  the  lay  school ;  this  she  generously  handed  over  for 
the  use  of  the  convent.  Laurent  Goussard  was,  no  doubt, 
somewhat  amazed  when  she  spoke  to  this  effect : 

"I  cannot  accept  your  offer;  I  cannot  buy  at  the  lowest 
price;  my  conscience  forbids  it.  Before  the  Eevolution  the 
convent  lands  were  valued  at  so  much ;  this  is  the  price  I  pro- 
pose to  pay,  not  that  to  which  they  were  brought  down  as  a 
result  of  the  general  depreciation  in  value  of  all  the  national- 
ized lands.  In  short,  my  good  sir,  I  mean  to  pay  more — if 
that  meets  your  views." 

Laurent  Goussard  thought  at  first  that  he  misunderstood 
her,  or  had  been  misunderstood;  but  when  it  dawned  upon 
him  that  the  Mother  Superior's  scruples  of  conscience  would 
bring  him  a  profit  of  about  fifty  thousand  francs,  he  had  no 
wish  to  coerce  so  delicate  a  conscience,  and  pocketing  this 
godsend,  which  had  really  fallen  from  heaven,  he  made  the 
astonishing  facts  known  far  and  wide ;  and  this,  as  you  may 
suppose,  madame,  raised  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  to  such 


234  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

estimation  in  the  eyes  of  every  buyer  of  nationalized  lands, 
that  she  will  never  have  anything  to  fear  from  any  revolution. 
Personally,  Laurent  Goussard  is  her.  fanatical  adorer;  he 
never  does  a  stroke  of  business  or  moves  a  sack  of  corn  with- 
out consulting  her;  and,  as  she  said  jestingly  the  other  day, 
if  she  had  a  mind  to  treat  the  Sous-prefet  like  John  the  Bap- 
tist, in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Laurent  Goussard  would  bring 
her  that  official's  head  in  a  sack.  Does  not  that  sufficiently 
prove,  madame,  that  at  a  nod  from  our  Abbess  he  will  vote, 
and  get  all  his  friends  to  vote,  for  the  candidate  of  her 
choice  ? 

Mother  Marie  des  Anges  has,  of  course,  a  wide  connection 
among  the  clergy,  both  by  reason  of  her  habit  and  her  reputa- 
tion for  distinguished  virtue;  and  among  her  most  devoted 
allies  may  be  numbered  Monseigneur  Troubert,  the  bishop  of 
the  diocese,  who,  though  formerly  an  adherent  of  the  Congre- 
gation, would,  under  the  dynasty  of  July,  put  up  with  an 
archbishopric  as  preliminary  to  the  cardinal's  hat.  Now  if, 
to  assist  him  in  this  ambition — justified,  it  must  be  said,  by 
great  and  indisputable  capabilities — Mother  Marie  des  Anges 
were  to  write  a  few  lines  to  the  Queen,  it  is  probable  that  his 
promotion  would  not  be  too  long  deferred.  But  it  will  be 
give  and  take.  If  the  Ursuline  Abbess  works  for  the  arch- 
bishopric, Monseigneur  de  Troyes  will  work  the  election. 
Kor  will  his  share  of  the  bargain  be  at  all  difficult,  since 
the  candidate  in  whom  he  is  required  to  interest  himself  is 
a  declared  advocate  of  freedom  in  teaching,  which  is 
the  only  political  principle  for  which  the  clergy  care  at  this 
moment. 

Winning  the  clergy  almost  certainly  secures  the  Legitimist 
vote,  for  that  party  is  no  less  passionately  bent  on  freedom 
in  teaching;  and,  out  of  hatred  for  the  new  (Orleans) 
dynasty,  does  not  even  take  fright  at  seeing  that  principle  in 
monstrous  alliance  with  radical  politics.  The  head  of  that 
party  in  this  district  is  the  family  of  Cinq-Cygne.  The  old 
Marquise,  whose  haughty  temper  and  determined  will  are 
known  to  you,  madame,  never  comes  to  the  Chateau  of  Cinq- 


THE    MEMBER   FOR    ARCIS  235 

Cygne  without  visiting  Mother  Marie  des  Anges,  whose  pupil 
her  daughter  Berthe  formerly  was — now  the  Duchesse  de 
Mauf rigneuse ;  as  to  the  Duke,  he  will  certainly  support  us, 
for,  as  ycu  know,  Daniel  d'Arthez  is  a  great  friend  of  mine, 
and  through  Arthez  we  are  certain  to  secure  the  interest  of 
the  Princesse  de  Cadignan,  our  handsome  Duke's  mother,  so 
we  may  count  on  him. 

If  we  now  turn  to  a  more  obdurate  party — the  Conserva- 
tives, who  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  Ministerialists — 
their  leader  is  the  Comte  de  Gondreville,  your  husband's  col- 
league in  the  Upper  Chamber.  At  his  heels  comes  a  very 
influential  voter,  his  old  friend,  the  former  mayor  and  notary 
of  Arcis,  who  in  his  turn  drags  in  his  train  a  no  less  important 
elector,  Maitre  Achille  Pigoult,  to  whom,  on  retiring,  he  sold 
his  connection.  But  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  has  a  strong 
hold  on  the  Comte  de  Gondreville  through  his  daughter,  the 
Marechale  de  Carigliano.  This  great  lady,  who,  as  you  are 
aware,  is  immensely  devout,  comes  every  year  to  the  Ursuline 
Convent  for  a  penitential  retreat.  Mother  Marie  des  Anges 
says,  moreover,  though  she  gives  no  explanations,  that  she  has 
a  hold  on  the  old  Count  through  some  circumstances  known 
only  to  herself ;  and,  in  fact,  this  regicide's  career — becoming 
a  Senator,  a  Count  of  the  Empire,  and  now  a  peer  of  France 
— must  have  led  him  through  devious  and  subterranean  ways, 
making  it  probable  that  there  have  been  secret  passages  which 
he  would  not  care  to  have  brought  to  light.  Now,  Gondreville 
is  one  with  Grevin,  for  fifty  years  his  second  self  and  active 
tool ;  and  even  supposing  that  by  some  impossible  chance  their 
long  union  should  be  severed,  at  least  we  should  be  sure  of 
Achille  Pigoult,  Grevin's  successor  as  notary  to  the  Ursuline 
Sisterhood ;  indeed,  at  the  time  of  the  acquisition  of  the  estate 
in  Arcis  by  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  which  was  effected 
through  him,  the  purchaser  took  care  to  pay  him  a  hono- 
rarium so  large — so  electoral — that  he  pledged  himself  merely 
by  accepting  it. 

As  to  the  ruck  of  the  voters,  our  friend  is  certain  to  recruit 
a  strong  force,  since  he  is  about  to  give  them  employment 


236  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

on  the  important  repairs  he  proposes  to  begin  at  once ;  for  the 
chateau,  of  which  he  is  now  the  proprietor,  is,  fortunately, 
falling  into  ruin  in  many  places.  We  may  trust  also  to  the 
effect  of  a  magniloquent  profession  of  principles  which  Charles 
de  Sallenauve  has  just  had  printed,  setting  forth  in  lofty 
terms  that  he  will  accept  neither  favors  nor  office  from  the 
Government.  And  then  the  oratorical  display  we  may  look 
for  at  the  preliminary  meeting,  which  is  already  fixed;  the 
support  of  the  opposition  papers  in  Paris  as  well  as  here ;  the 
abuse  and  calumny  with  which  the  ministerial  papers  have  al- 
ready opened  fire — everything  combines  to  make  me  hopeful. 
And  there  is  a  further  consideration  which  seems  to  me  final : 
It  would  surely  not  be  strange  if  the  good  folks  of  Cham- 
pagne, with  a  view  to  counteracting  their  reputation  as 
Boeotians,  should  be  eager  to  elect  a  man  distinguished  in  art, 
whose  masterpiece  they  have  under  their  very  eyes,  who  has 
made  himself  their  fellow-townsman  by  purchasing  an  estate 
which  has  for  ten  years  been  in  the  market,  and  who  is  now 
about  to  restore  the  house,  one  of  the  finest  in  the  province,  to 
its  former  splendor,  with  prodigal  disregard  of  cost. 

After  this  voluminous  essay  on  our  military  resources  and 
movements,  it  hardly  beseems  me,  madame,  to  complain  of 
any  want  of  mental  occupation.  I  know  not  whether  it  is  in 
consequence  of  the  interest  I  feel  in  my  friend,  but  I  really 
believe  that  I  have  caught  a  touch  of  the  electoral  fever 
which  is  raging  here;  you  may  even  think  that  this  letter, 
crammed  with  local  details,  in  which  your  utmost  kindness 
will  scarcely  enable  you  to  feel  much  interest,  is  a  symptom 
of  a  terribly  bad  attack.  Again,  will  you  thank  me,  I  wonder, 
for  representing  this  man  as  likely  to  be  seen  ere  long  through 
the  halo  of  parliamentary  glory,  when,  only  the  other  day, 
you  were  saying  that  it  was  not  safe  to  make  a  friend  of  him, 
in  view  of  his  superhuman,  and  consequently  rather  aggres- 


sive pre-eminence  r 

To  be  quite  frank,  madame,  whatever  successes  may  await 
Charles  de  Sallenauve  in  his  political  career,  I  fear  he  may 
some  day  regret  the  calmer  glory  he  would  have  achieved  in 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARC1S  23T 

the  realm  of  art,  but  neither  he  nor  I  was  born  under  a  tran- 
quil star;  we  have  paid  dear  for  our  very  existence,  and  that 
you  should  not  like  us  is  doubly  cruel.  You  have  some  kind 
feeling  for  me,  because  the  fragrance  still  clings  to  me  of  our 
beloved  Louise;  have  then  some  little  regard  for  the  man 
whom  I  have  dared  to  speak  of  throughout  this  letter  as  our 
friend.  If  indeed,  do  what  he  will,  he  betrays  a  sort  of  in- 
sufferable greatness,  should  we  not  rather  pity  him  than  call 
him  to  a  strict  account  ?  Do  we  not  know,  you  and  I,  by  cruel 
experience,  that  the  noblest  and  most  glorious  lights  are 
those  which  first  sink  into  the  extinction  of  eternal  darkness  ? 

Marie-Gaston  to  the  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade. 

ARCIS-SUR-AUBE,  May  9, 18?9. 

MADAME, — You  too  have  the  election  fever,  and  you  have 
been  good  enough  to  transmit  as  a  message  from  M.  de  I'Es- 
torade a  certain  list  of  discouragements,  which  no  doubt  de- 
serve consideration.  I  may  however  say  at  once  that  this 
communication  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  so  important  as 
you  perhaps  think;  and  even  before  your  official  warning 
reached  us,  the  difficulties  in  our  course  had  not  failed  to 
occur  to  us.  We  knew  already  of  the  confidential  mission 
undertaken  by  M.  de  Trailles,  though  for  some  days  he  tried, 
not  very  successfully,  to  disguise  it  under  a  pretence  of  com- 
mercial business.  We  even  knew  what  you,  madame,  do  not 
seem  to  have  known,  that  this  ingenious  instrument  of  the 
ministerial  mind  had  contrived  to  combine  the  care  of  his 
personal  interests  with  that  of  party  politics. 

M.  Maxime  de  Trailles,  if  we  are  correctly  informed,  was 
not  long  since  on  the  point  of  sinking  under  the  last  and 
worst  attack  of  a  chronic  malady  from  which  he  has  long 
suffered.  This  malady  is  his  Debt — for  we  do  not  speak  of 
M.  de  Trailles'  debts,  but  of  his  Debt,  as  of  the  National  Debt 
of  England.  In  extremis,  the  gentleman,  bent  on  some  des- 
perate remedy,  seems  to  have  hoped  for  a  cure  in  marriage — 
a  marriage  in  extremis,  as  it  might  well  be  called,  since  he  is 


238  THE  MEMBER  FOB  ARCIS 

said  to  be  very  near  fifty.  Being  well  known — that  is  to  say. 
in  his  case,  much  depreciated — in  Paris,  like  tradespeople 
whose  goods  are  out  of  date,  he  packed  himself  off  to  the  coun- 
try, and  unpacked  himself  at  Arcis-sur-Aube  just  as  the  fun 
of  the  election  was  beginning,  wisely  supposing  that  the  rather 
uproarious  tumult  of  this  kind  of  political  scrimmage  might 
favor  the  slightly  shady  character  of  his  proceedings.  He  cal- 
culated well ;  the  unlooked-for  death  of  young  Charles  Keller, 
who  was  first  chosen  as  the  ministerial  candidate,  threw  the 
whole  electoral  district  into  great  perturbation.  M.  Maximo 
de  Trailles,  fishing  in  these  turbid  waters,  contrived  to  har- 
poon a  candidate  recommended  by  two  very  dissimilar  kinds 
of  merit  and  suitability. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  public  affairs,  M.  Beauvisage, 
whose  name,  madame,  you  will  certainly  remember,  has  the 
immense  advantage  of  having  thoroughly  beaten  and  crusjied 
the  nomination  of  a  little  attorney  named  Simon  Giguet,  who, 
to  the  great  indignation  of  the  Government,  wanted  to  take 
his  seat  with  the  Left  Centre.  This  ousting  of  a  pert  upstart 
on  the  side  of  the  Opposition  was  thought  such  an  inestimable 
boon,  that  it  led  folks  to  overlook  the  notorious  and  indis- 
putable ineptitude  of  this  Beauvisage,  and  the  ridicule 
which  his  return  could  not  fail  to  bring  on  those  who  should 
vote  for  his  election.  On  the  private  side  of  the  question — 
that  is  to  say,  M.  de  Trailles'  personal  interest — M.  Beau- 
visage  has  the  great  merit  of  owning  an  only  daughter,  toler- 
ably pretty,  who,  without  any  exaggeration,  it  would  seem, 
Will  bring  her  husband  a  fortune  of  five  hundred  thousand 
francs,  amassed  in  the  cotton  night-cap  trade,  of  which  I 
spoke  in  such  ribald  terms  in  my  last  letter.  So  now  the  wire- 
pulling is  all  exposed  to  view.  M.  de  Trailles  had  to  ignite 
and  feed  an  ambition  and  hope  of  sitting  in  the  Chamber 
in  the  mind  of  a  man  who  certainly  would  never  have  thought 
of  it  unaided;  to  insinuate  that,  in  return  for  his  help  and 
disbursements,  he  meant,  of  course,  to  win  the  daughter  and 
the  dowry;  to  dazzle  her  by  a  made-up  semblance  of  youth, 
by  supreme  elegance  of  manner,  and  by  the  title  of  Countess ; 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  239 

to  begin  carefully  by  seeming  to  hesitate  between  the  daughter 
and  the  mother,  and  make  a  crowning  display  of  disinter- 
estedness and  reformation  by  insisting  that  the  settlements 
should  protect  the  lady's  fortune  from  his  extravagance  by 
every  restriction  the  law  can  devise; — this  was  the  task,  the 
really  herculean  work,  accomplished  by  M.  de  Trailles  in  less 
than  a  fortnight ! 

But  then  we  appeared  on  the  scene.  We  are  of  the 
province;  Champenois  by  the  name  that  dropped  on  us  one 
morning  from  the  skies;  we  make  ourselves  even  more  so 
by  acquiring  land  in  the  district;  and,  as  it  happens,  the 
country  is  bent  at  this  election  on  sending  no  one  to  the 
Chamber  but  a  specimen  of  its  own  vintage ! — For  that  very 
reason  you  will  say  Beauvisage  is  certain  to  win;  he  is  the 
purest  and  most  unmitigated  product  of  the  soil. 

So  you  might  think,  madame,  but  then  we  are  not  quite 
se  idiotic  as  Beauvisage;  we  do  not  invariably  make  our- 
selves ridiculous;  we  do  not  indeed  make  cotton  night-caps, 
but  we  make  statues  for  which  we  have  earned  the  Legion, 
of  Honor;  religious  statues,  to  be  dedicated  with  much  pomp 
in  the  presence  of  Monseigneur  the  Bishop,  who  will  con- 
descend to  give  an  address,  and  of  the  municipal  authorities ; 
statues  which  the  whole  of  the  town — that  part  of  it  which 
is  not  admitted  to  the  ceremony — is  crowding  to  admire  at 
the  House  of  the  Ursulines,  who  are  vain  enough  of  this 
magnificent  addition  to  their  gem  of  a  chapel,  and  threw 
open  their  public  rooms  and  oratory  to  all  comers  for  the 
whole  day — and  this  you  may  be  sure  tends  to  make  us 
popular. 

What  contributes  even  better  to  this  popularity  is  that  we 
are  not  mean  like  Beauvisage,  and  do  not  hoard  our  income 
sow  by  sou;  that  we  are  employing  thirty  workmen  at  the 
chateau — painters,  masons,  glaziers,  gardeners,  trellis-makers ; 
and  that  while  the  mayor  of  the  town  trudges  shabbily  on 
foot,  we  are  to  be  seen  driving  through  Arcis  in  an  elegant 
open  chaise  with  two  prancing  steeds,  which  our  father — not 
in  heaven,  but  in  Paris — anxious  to  be  even  more  delightful 


240  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

at  a  distance  than  on  the  spot,  sent  hither  post  haste,  with 
a  view,  I  believe,  to  snuffing  out  M.  de  Trailles'  tilbury  and 
tiger.  These,  I  may  tell  you,  before  our  arrival  were  the 
talk  of  the  town. 

This  evening,  madame,  to  crown  the  great  occasion  of  the 
dedication  of  the  "Saint  Ursula,"  we  are  giving  a  dinner  to 
fifty  guests  at  our  chateau;  and  we  have  been  so  clever  as  to 
invite  not  only  all  the  principal  magnates  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, but  every  official,  permanent  or  temporary,  without  dis- 
tinction. These  last,  now  that  we  have  announced  our  in- 
tention of  standing  for  election,  will,  we  know,  certainly  not 
accept.  So  much  the  better!  there  will  be  more  room  for 
those  who  do;  and  the  defaulters,  whose  names  will  all  be 
known  to-morrow,  will  be  caught  in  the  very  act  of  such 
flagrant  servility  and  subserviency  as  will,  we  hope,  strike  a 
fatal  blow  to  their  influence. 

Yesterday,  madame,  we  drove  out  in  our  chaise  to  the 
Chateau  of  Cinq-C}rgne,  where  Arthez  introduced  us  to  the 
Princesse  de  Cadignan.  That  woman  is  really  miraculously 
preserved ;  she  seems  to  have  been  embalmed  by  the  happiness 
of  her  liaison  with  the  great  writer.  "They  are  the  prettiest 
picture  of  happiness  ever  seen,"  you  said,  I  remember,  of 
M.  and  Mme.  de  Portenduere;  and  you  might  say  the  same 
of  Arthez  and  the  Princess,  altering  the  word  "pretty"  in 
consideration  of  their  Indian  summer. 

From  what  I  knew  of  a  scene  that  took  place,  long  ago 
now,  at  Mme.  d'Espard's  at  the  very  beginning  of  that  con- 
nection, I  felt  quite  sure  of  not  finding  M.  de  Trailles  in 
high  favor  at  Cinq-Cygne;  for,  on  that  occasion,  he  had 
done  his  utmost  to  be  offensive  to  Arthez ;  and  Arthez,  though 
content  with  making  him  ridiculous,  regarded  him  with  con- 
tempt; and  that  lofty  and  noble  spirit  can  never  get  over 
that.  On  his  first  arrival  here  the  ministerial  envoy  was  met 
with  some  civilities  at  Cinq-Cygne;  but  he  was  no  more  than 
a  floating  stick — Arthez  soon  sent  him  to  the  bottom.  One 
man,  who  flattered  himself  that  he  should  find  a  fulcrum  for 
intrigue  at  Cinq-Cygne,  is  now  so  entirely  out  of  court  that 


THE   MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  241 

it  was  from  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse — to  whom  M.  de 
Trailles  was  so  imprudent  as  to  detail  his  schemes,  as  having 
known  him  at  the  Jockey  Club — that  I  obtained  the  informa- 
tion set  forth  at  the  beginning  of  this  letter,  to  be  handed 
on  to  M.  de  1'Estorade  if  you  will  undertake  the  commission. 

Mme.  de  Maufrigneuse  and  the  old  Marquise  de  Cinq- 
Cygne  were  wonderfully  kind  in  their  reception  of  Dorlange 
— Sallenauve,  I  should  say,  but  I  find  it  difficult  to  remember ; 
as  they  are  less  humble  than  you  are,  they  were  not  frightened 
at  any  loftiness  they  might  meet  with  in  our  friend,  and  he, 
in  an  interview  which  was  really  rather  difficult,  behaved  to 
perfection.  It  is  very  strange  that  after  living  so  much 
alone,  he  should  at  once  have  turned  out  perfectly  presentable. 
Is  it  perhaps  that  the  Beautiful,  which  has  hitherto  been  the 
ruling  idea  of  his  life,  includes  all  that  is  pleasing,  elegant, 
and  appropriate — things  which  are  generally  learned  by  prac- 
tice as  opportunity  offers?  But  this  cannot  be  the  case,  for 
I  have  seen  very  eminent  artists,  especially  sculptors,  who, 
outside  their  studios,  were  simply  unendurable. 

I  must  here  make  a  break,  madame;  I  am  at  an  end  of 
my  facts,  and  drifting  into  twaddle.  To-morrow  I  shall  have 
to  give  you  an  account  of  the  great  banquet,  which  will  be 
more  interesting  tftan  my  reflections — philosophical  and 
moral. 

May  10. 

The  dinner  is  over,  dear  madame;  it  was  a  magnificent 
affair,  and  will,  I  fancy,  be  long  talked  of  in  Arcis.  Salle- 
nauve has  in  the  organist — who,  by  the  way,  at  the 
ceremony  of  the  statue  yesterday,  displayed  his  exquisite 
talent  on  the  good  Sisters'  organ — a  sort  of  steward  and 
factotum  transcending  all  the  Vatels  that  ever  lived.  He  is 
not  the  man  to  fall  on  his  sword  because  the  fish  is  late. 
Colored  lamps,  transparencies,  garlands,  and  drapery  to  deco- 
rate the  dining-room,  even  a  little  packet  of  fireworks  which 
had  been  stowed  in  the  boot  of  the  chaise  by  that  surly  and 
invisible  father — who  has  his  good  side  however — nothing 
was  wanting  to  the  festivities.  They  were  kept  up  till  a  late 


242  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

hour  in  the  gardens  of  the  chateau,  to  which  the  plebs  were 
admitted  to  dance  and  drink  copiously. 

Almost  all  our  guests  appeared,  excepting  those  whom  we 
had  asked  merely  to  compromise  them.  The  invitation  was  so 
short — a  difficulty  inevitable  and  pardonable  under  the  cir- 
cumstances— that  it  was  quite  amusing  to  see  notes  of  excuse 
arriving  up  to  the  very  dinner  hour,  for  Sallenauve  had 
ordered  that  they  should  all  be  brought  to  him  as  soon  as 
they  arrived.  And  as  he  opened  each  letter  he  took  care  to 
say  quite  audibly:  "M.  le  Sous-prefet — M.  le  Procureur  du 
Eoi — The  Deputy  Judge — expresses  his  regrets  at  being  un- 
able to  accept  my  invitation." 

All  these  "refusals  of  support"  were  listened  to  with  signifi- 
cant smiles  and  whispering;  but  when  a  note  was  brought 
from  Beauvisage,  and  Dorlange  read  aloud  that  M.  le  Maire 
"found  it  impossible  to  correspond  to  his  polite  invitation," 
laughter  was  loud  and  long,  as  much  at  the  matter  as  the 
manner  of  the  refusal.  It  ended  only  on  the  arrival  of  a  M. 
Martener,  examining  judge  here,  who  showed  the  highest 
courage  in  accepting  this  dinner.  At  the  same  time,  it  may  be 
noted  that  an  examining  judge  is  in  his  nature  a  divisible 
entity.  As  a  judge  he  is  a  permanent  official ;  all  the  change 
he  can  be  subject  to  is  that  of  his  title*  and  the  loss  of  the 
small  additional  salary  he  is  allowed,  with  the  right  to  issue 
summonses  and  catechize  thieves,  grand  privileges  of  which 
he  may  be  deprived  by  the  fiat  of  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals. 
However,  allowing  that  only  half  of  M.  Martener  was  bold, 
he  was  hailed  like  a  "full  moon." 

In  the  presence  of  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  of  Arthez, 
and,  above  all,  of  Monseigneur  the  Bishop,  who  is  spending 
a  few  days  at  Cinq-Cygne,  one  absentee  was  much  commented 
on,  though  his  reply,  sent  early  in  the  day,  was  not  read  to 
the  company.  This  was  the  old  notary  Grevin.  As  to  the 
Comte  de  Gondreville,  also  absent,  nothing  could  be  said ;  the 
recent  death  of  his  grandson  Charles  Keller  prohibited  his 
presence  at  this  meeting;  and  Sallenauve,  by  making  his  in- 
vitation in  some  sort  conditional,  had  been  careful  to  suggest 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  243 

the  excuse ;  but  Grevin,  the  Comte  de  Gondreville's  right  hand, 
who  has  certainly  made  greater  and  more  compromising  efforts 
for  his  friend  than  that  of  dining  out — Grevin's  absence 
seemed  to  imply  that  his  patron  was  still  a  supporter  of  Beau- 
visage,  now  almost  deserted.  And  this  influence — lying  low, 
in  sporting  phrase — is  really  of  no  small  importance  to  us. 
Maitre  Achille  Pigoult,  Grevin's  successor,  explained,  it  is 
true,  that  the  old  man  lives  in  complete  retirement,  and 
can  hardly  be  persuaded  to  dine  even  with  his  son-in-law  two 
or  three  times  a  year;  but  the  retort  was  obvious  that  when 
the  Sous-prefet  had  lately  given  a  dinner  to  introduce  the 
Beauvisage  family  to  M.  Maxime  de  Trailles,  Grevin  had 
been  ready  to  accept  his  invitation.  So  there  will  be  some 
little  pull  from  the  Gondreville  party,  and  Mother  Marie 
des  Anges  will,  I  believe,  have  to  bring  her  secret  thrust  into 
play. 

The  pretext  for  the  dinner  being  the  dedication  of  the 
"Saint  Ursula,"  an  event  which  the  Sisterhood  could  not 
celebrate  by  a  banquet,  Sallenauve  had  a  fine  opportunity  at 
dessert  for  proposing  a  toast: 

"To  the  Mother  of  the  poor ;  to  the  noble  and  saintly  spirit 
which  for  fifty  years  has  shone  on  our  Province,  and  to  whom 
is  due  the  prodigious  number  of  cultivated  and  accomplished 
women  who  adorn  this  beautiful  land !" 

If  you,  madarne,  knew  this  corner  of  Champagne  as  well 
as  I  do,  you  would,  when  you  read  this  sentence  which  I 
have  transcribed  with  tolerable  exactitude,  exclaim  at  Salle- 
nauve for  a  contemptible  wretch,  and  wonder  that  the 
passion  for  power  should  make  any  man  capable  of  such  horri- 
ble enormities.  And  is  it  worth  a  man's  while — a  man 
usually  so  self-respecting — to  find  courage  to  tell  a  lie  so  great 
as  to  be  almost  a  crime,  when  a  mere  trifle  of  which  he 
had  never  once  thought,  which  is  no  merit  of  his  own,  and  of 
which  all  the  credit  must  be  referred  to  the  fortuitous  con- 
course of  linked  atoms,  recommended  him  to  the  sympathy  of 
the  voters  better  than  all  the  speeches  in  the  world? 

You  yourself  mentioned  to  me  that  your  son  Armand  saw 


244  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

a  strong  resemblance  in  Sallenauve  to  the  portraits  of  Dan- 
ton;  it  would  seem  that  the  remark  is  true,  for  I  heard  it 
on  all  sides,  applied  not  to  the  portraits,  but  to  the  man  him- 
self, by  guests  who  had  known  the  great  revolutionary  well. 
Laurent  Goussard,  as  the  head  of  a  party,  had  of  course  been 
invited.  He  was  not  only  Danton's  friend,  he  was  in  a  way 
his  brother-in-law;  Danton,  who  was  a  scapegrace  wooer, 
having  paid  his  court  for  several  years  to  one  of  the  honest 
miller's  sisters.  Well,  the  likeness  must  in  fact  be  striking; 
for  after  dinner,  while  we  were  drinking  our  coffee,  the  wine 
of  the  country  having  mounted  a  little  to  the  good  man's 
brain — for  there  had  been  no  stint,  as  you  may  suppose — he 
went  up  to  Sallenauve  and  asked  him  point-blank  if  he  could 
by  any  chance  be  mistaken  as  to  his  father,  and  if  he  were 
sure  that  Danton  had  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  begetting 
of  him. 

Sallenauve  laughed  at  the  idea,  and  simply  did  a  little 
Bum: 

"Danton  died  on  April  5,  1793.  To  be  his  son  I  must 
have  been  born  in  1794  at  the  latest,  and  should  be  five- 
and-forty  now.  Now,  as  the  register  in  which  my  birth  was 
entered — father  and  mother  unknown — is  dated  1809,  that 
— and  I  hope  my  face  as  well — prove  me  to  be  but  just 
thirty." 

"Quite  true,"  said  Laurent  Goussard,  "the  figures  bowl  me 
over.  Never  mind ;  we  will  get  you  in  all  the  same." 

And  I  believe  the  man  is  right;  this  whimsical  likeness 
will  be  of  immense  weight  in  turning  the  scale  of  the  elec- 
tion. And  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  Danton  is  an  object 
of  execration  and  horror  to  the  citizens  of  Arcis,  in  spite  of 
the  dreadful  associations  that  surround  his  memory.  In  the 
first  place,  time  has  softened  them,  and  there  yet  remains  the 
recollection  of  a  strong  mind  and  great  brain  that  they  are 
proud  of  owning  in  a  fellow-countryman.  At  Arcis  curiosi- 
ties and  notabilities  are  scarce;  here  the  people  speak  of 
Danton  as  at  Marseilles  they  would  speak  of  the  Cannebiere. 
So  good  luck  to  this  likeness  to  the  demigod,  whose  worship 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  245 

is  not  confined  to  the  town  only,  but  extends  throughout  the 
suburbs  and  district. 

These  voters,  extra  muros,  are  sometimes  amusingly  art- 
less; a  little  contradiction  does  not  stick  in  their  throat. 
Some  agents  sent  out  into  the  neighboring  country  have  al- 
ready made  good  use  of  this  resemblance;  and  as  in  canvass- 
ing the  rustics  it  is  more  important  to  strike  hard  than  to 
strike  straight,  Laurent  Goussard's  explanation,  apocryphal 
as  it  is,  has  gone  the  round  of  the  rural  hamlets  with  a 
precision  that  has  met  with  no  contradiction.  And  while 
this  revolutionary  parentage,  though  purely  imaginary,  is 
serving  our  friend  well,  on  the  other  hand  we  say  to  those 
worthy  voters  who  are  to  be  caught  by  something  at  once 
more  accurate  and  not  less  striking: 

"He  is  the  gentleman  who  has  just  bought  the  Chateau 
d'Arcis." 

And  as  the  Chateau  d'Arcis  towers  above  the  town  and 
is  known  to  everybody  for  miles  round,  it  is  a  sort  of  land- 
mark; and  at  the  same  time,  with  a  perennial  instinct  of  re- 
version to  old  world  traditions,  less  dead  and  buried  than 
might  be  supposed. 

"Oho !  he  is  the  lord  of  the  chateau,"  they  say,  a  free  but 
respectful  version  of  the  idea  suggested  to  them. 

So  this,  madame,  saving  your  presence,  is  the  procedure 
in  the  electoral  kitchen,  and  the  way  to  dress  and  serve  up  a 
Member  of  the  Chamber. 

Marie-Gaston  to  Madame  de  I'Estorade. 

AKCIS-SUE-AUBE,  May  11, 1839. 

MADAME, — Since  you  do  me  the  honor  to  say  that  my 
letters  amuse  you,  I  am  bound  not  to  be  shy  of  repeating 
them.  But  is  not  this  a  little  humiliating  ?  and  when  I  think 
of  the  terrible  grief  which  was  our  first  bond  of  union,  is  it 
possible  that  I  should  be  an  amusing  man  all  the  rest  of  my 
days?  Here,  as  I  have  told  you,  I  am  in  an  atmosphere 
that  intoxicates  me.  I  have  made  a  passion  of  Sallenauve's 


246  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

success,  and  being,  as  I  am,  of  a  gloomy  and  hopeless  nature, 
an  even  greater  passion  perhaps  of  the  wish  to  hinder  the 
triumph  of  ineptitude  and  folly  under  the  patronage  of  base 
interest  and  intrigue.  Thank  you,  M.  de  Trailles,  for  the 
exhibition  you  have  favored  us  with  of  your  really  burlesque 
father-in-law !  For  you  have  succeeded  in  interesting  me  in 
something;  every  now  and  then  I  laugh  rather  than  rage; 
but  at  those  moments,  at  any  rate,  I  forget. 

To-day,  madame,  the  grotesque  is  paramount;  we  are  on 
full  parade.  Notwithstanding  M.  de  1'Estorade's  discourag- 
ing warnings,  we  are  led  to  suppose  that  the  Ministry  has  not 
very  exultant  tidings  from  its  agent ;  and  this  is  what  makes 
us  think  so:  We  are  no  longer  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Poste;  we 
have  left  it  for  our  chateau.  But,  thanks  to  a  long-standing 
rivalry  between  the  two  inns,  la  Poste  and  le  Mulet — where 
M.  de  Trailles  has  his  headquarters — we  still  have  ample  in- 
formation from  our  former  residence;  and  our  host  there  is 
all  the  more  zealous  and  willing  because  I  strongly  suspect 
that  he  had  a  hand,  greatly  to  his  advantage  I  should  think, 
in  arranging  and  furnishing  the  banquet  of  which  I  had  the 
honor  to  send  you  full  particulars. 

From  this  man,  then,  we  learn  that  immediately  after  our 
departure,  a  journalist  from  Paris  put  up  at  the  hotel.  This 
gentleman,  whose  name  I  have  forgotten — which  is  well  for 
him,  considering  how  glorious  a  mission  he  bears — also  an- 
nounced that  he  came  as  a  champion  to  lend  the  vis  of  his 
Parisian  wit  to  the  war  of  words  to  be  opened  on  us  by  the 
local  press,  subsidized  by  the  "office  of  public  spirit."  So  far 
there  is  nothing  very  droll  or  very  depressing  in  the  proceed- 
ings ;  ever  since  the  world  began,  Governments  have  been  able 
to  find  pens  for  hire,  and  have  never  been  shy  of  hiring  them. 
Where  the  comedy  begins  is  at  the  co-arrival  at  the  Hotel  de 
la  Poste  of  a  damsel. of  very  doubtful  virtue,  who  is  said 
indeed  to  have  accompanied  His  Excellency  the  Ministerial 
newsmonger.  The  young  lady's  name,  by  the  way,  I  happen 
to  remember:  she  is  designated  on  her  passport  as  Made- 
moiselle Chocardelle,  of  independent  means;  but  the  journal- 


THE    MEMBER    FOB    ARCIS  247 

ist  in  speaking  of  her  never  calls  her  anything  but  Antonia, 
or,  if  he  yearns  to  be  respectful,  Mademoiselle  or  Miss 
Antonia. 

But  what  has  brought  Mile.  Chocardelle  to  Arcis?  A 
little  pleasure  trip,  no  doubt ;  or  perhaps  to  serve  as  an  escort 
to  monsieur  the  journalist,  who  is  willing  to  give  her  a  share 
in  the  credit  account  opened  for  him  on  the  secret  service  fund 
for  the  daily  quota  of  defamation  to  be  supplied  by  contract  ? 
— No,  madame,  Mile.  Chocardelle  has  come  to  Arcis  on  busi- 
ness— to  recover  certain  moneys.  It  would  seem  that  before 
leaving  for  Africa,  where  he  has  met  a  glorious  death,  young 
Charles  Keller  signed  a  bill  in  favor  of  Mademoiselle  Antonia, 
an  order  for  ten  thousand  francs,  value  received  in  furniture, 
a  really  ingenious  quibble,  the  furniture  having  obviously 
been  received  by  Mademoiselle  Chocardelle,  who  thus  priced 
the  sacrifice  she  made  in  accepting  it  at  ten  thousand  francs. 
At  any  rate,  the  bill  being  nearly  due,  a  few  days  after  hear- 
ing of  the  death  of  her  debtor  Mile.  Antonia  called  at  the 
Kellers'  office  to  know  whether  it  would  be  paid.  The  cashier, 
a  rough  customer,  as  all  cashiers  are,  replied  that  he  did  not 
know  how  Mademoiselle  Antonia  could  have  the  face  to  pre- 
sent such  a  claim ;  but  that  in  any  case  the  Brothers  Keller, 
his  masters,  were  at  present  at  Gondreville,  where  all  the 
family  had  met  on  hearing  the  fatal  news,  and  that  he  should 
not  pay  without  referring  the  matter  to  them. 

"Very  well,  I  will  refer  it  myself,"  said  the  young  lady, 
who  would  not  leave  her  bill  to  run  beyond  its  date. 

Thereupon,  just  as  she  was  arranging  to  set  out  alone  for 
Arcis,  the  Government  suddenly  felt  a  call  to  abuse  us,  if  not 
more  grossly,  at  any  rate  more  brilliantly  than  the  provincials 
do;  and  the  task  of  sharpening  these  darts  was  confided  to  a 
journalist  of  very  mature  youth,  to  whom  Mile.  Antonia  had 
been  kind — in  the  absence  of  Charles  Keller ! 

"I  am  off  to  Arcis !"  the  scrivener  and  the  lady  said  at  the 
same  moment ;  the  commonest  and  simplest  lives  offer  such 
coincidences.  So  it  is  not  very  strange  that,  having  set  out 
together,  they  should  have  arrived  together,  and  have  put 
up  at  the  same  inn. 


248  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

And  now  I  would  beg  you  to  admire  the  concatenation  of 
things.  Mile.  Chocardelle,  coming  here  with  an  eye  solely 
to  finance,  the  lady  has  suddenly  assumed  the  highest  political 
importance !  And,  as  you  will  see,  her  valuable  influence  will 
amply  compensate  for  the  stinging  punishment  to  be  dealt 
us  by  her  gallant  fellow-traveler. 

In  the  first  place,  it  appears  that  on  learning  that  M.  de 
Trailles  was  in  Arcis,  Mile.  Chocardelle's  remark  was : 

"What  I  he  here— that  horrid  rip?" 

The  expression  is  not  parliamentary,  and  I  blush  as  I  write 
it.  But  it  refers  to  previous  relations — business  relations 
again — between  Mile.  Antonia  and  the  illustrious  confidant  of 
the  Ministerial  party.  M.  de  Trailles,  accustomed  as  he  is  to 
pay  his  court  only  to  ladies  of  position — who  help  to  reduce 
his  debt  rather  than  to  add  to  the  burden — once  in  his  life 
took  it  into  his  head  to  be  loved  not  "for  himself  alone,"  and 
to  be  useful  rather  than  expensive.  He  consequently  bought 
a  circulating  library  for  Mademoiselle  Antonia  in  the  Rue 
Coquenard,  where  for  some  time  she  sat  enthroned.  But 
the  business  was  not  a  success;  a  sale  became  necessary;  and 
M.  Maxime  de  Trailles,  with  an  eye  to  business  as  usual, 
complicated  matters  by  the  purchase  of  the  furniture,  which 
slipped  through  his  fingers  by  the  cleverness  of  a  rascal  more 
rascally  than  himself.  By  these  manoeuvres  Mile.  Antonia 
lost  all  her  furniture,  which  the  vans  were  waiting  to  remove : 
and  another  young  lady — Hortense,  also  "of  private  means," 
and  attached  to  old  Lord  Dudley — gained  twenty-five  louis 
by  Antonia's  mishap. 

Of  course,  madame,  I  do  not  pretend  to  make  all  these 
details  absolutely  clear;  they  came  to  us  only  at  second  hand 
from  the  landlady  of  the  Poste,  to  whom  they  were  confided 
by  Mademoiselle  Antonia  with  more  coherency  and  lucidity 
no  doubt.  At  any  rate,  M.  de  Trailles  and  Mile.  Chocardelle 
parted  on  no  friendly  terms,  and  the  young  lady  believes  her- 
self justified  in  speaking  of  him  with  the  levity,  the  total 
absence  of  moderation,  which  will  have  struck  you  as  it  did 
me.  In  fact,  since  that  first  little  outburst  on  her  part,  things 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  249 

seem  to  have  come  to  such  a  pass  that  M.  de  Trailles,  in 
consequence  of  this  or  of  other  similar  remarks,  considered 
himself  seriously  compromised,  and  desired  the  journalist — 
whom  he  frequently  sees,  of  course — to  give  his  ready-tongued 
companion  a  "talking  to."  She,  however,  cared  not  a  jot, 
and  by  the  constant  dropping  of  her  sarcasms  and  anecdotes 
she  is  producing  the  effect,  I  will  not  say  of  a  countermine, 
but  of  a  counter-Maxime,  which  is  a  paralyzing  check  on 
the  poisonous  malignity  of  our  terrible  foe.  The  matter  of 
the  bill  meanwhile  hangs  fire:  she  has  twice  been  out  to 
Gondreville,  but  was  not  admitted. 

The  journalist  has  much  to  do :  to  write  his  articles  in  the 
first  place,  and  to  do  various  small  jobs  for  M.  de  Trailles, 
at  whose  service  he  is  to  be.  Hence  Mile.  Antonia  is  often 
left  to  herself,  and,  idle  and  bored  as  she  is,  so  bereft  of  any 
kind  of  Opera,  Kanelagh,  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  she  has 
found  for  herself  a  really  desperate  pastime.  Incredible  as  it 
seems,  this  amusement  is  not,  after  all,  utterly  incompre- 
hensible, as  the  device  of  a  Parisienne  of  her  class  exiled  to 
Arcis.  Quite  close  to  the  Hotel  de  la  Paste  is  a  bridge  over 
the  Aube.  Below  the  bridge,  down  a  rather  steep  slope,  a  path 
has  been  made  leading  to  the  water's  edge,  and  so  far  beneath 
the  highroad — which,  indeed,  is  not  much  frequented — as  to 
promise  precious  silence  and  solitude  to  those  who  choose  to 
go  there  and  dream  to  the  music  of  the  waters.  Mile.  Antonia 
at  first  betook  herself  to  sit  there  with  a  book ;  but  perhaps, 
from  a  painful  association  with  the  remembrance  of  her  read- 
ing-room, "books,"  as  she  says,  "are  not  much  in  her  line"; 
and  at  last  the  landlady  of  the  inn,  seeing  how  tired  the  poor 
soul  was  of  herself,  happily  thought  of  offering  her  guest  the 
use  of  a  very  complete  set  of  fishing-tackle  belonging  to  her 
husband,  whose  multifarious  business  compels  him  to  leave  it 
for  the  most  part  idle. 

The  fair  exile  had  some  luck  with  her  first  attempts,  and 
took  a  great  liking  for  the  pastime,  which  is  evidently  very 
fascinating,  since  it  has  so  many  fanatical  devotees ;  and  now 
the  few  passers-by,  who  cross  the  bridge,  may  admire,  on  the 


250  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

banks  of  the  Aube,  a  charming  water-nymph  in  flounced 
skirts  and  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat,  casting  her  line  with 
the  conscientious  gravity  of  the  most  sportsman-like  Paris 
arab,  in  spite  of  the  changes  of  our  yet  unsettled  temperature. 

So  far  so  good,  and  at  present  the  lady's  fishing  has  not 
much  to  do  with  our  election;  but  if  you  should  happen  to 
remember  in  Don  Quixote — a  book  you  appreciate,  madame, 
for  the  sake  of  the  good  sense  and  mirthful  philosophy  that 
abound  in  it — a  somewhat  unpleasant  adventure  that  befalls 
Eosinante  among  the  Muleteers,  you  will  anticipate,  before  I 
tell  you,  the  good  luck  to  us  that  has  resulted  from  Made- 
moiselle Antonia's  suddenly  developed  fancy.  Our  rival, 
Beauvisage,  is  not  merely  a  hosier  (retired)  and  an  exemplary 
mayor,  he  is  also  a  model  husband,  never  having  tripped  in 
the  path  of  virtue,  respecting  and  admiring  his  wife.  Every 
evening,  by  her  orders,  he  is  in  bed  by  ten  o'clock,  while  Ma- 
dame Beauvisage  and  her  daughter  go  into  what  Arcis  is 
agreed  to  call  Society.  But  stagnant  waters  are  the  deepest, 
they  say,  and  nothing  could  be  less  chaste  and  well  regulated 
than  the  calm  and  decorous  Kosinante  in  the  meeting  I  have 
alluded  to.  In  short,  Beauvisage,  making  the  rounds  of  his 
town — his  laudable  and  daily  habit — standing  on  the  bridge, 
happened  to  remark  the  damsel,  her  arm  extended  with  manly 
vigor,  her  figure  gracefully  balanced,  absorbed  in  her  favorite 
sport.  A  bewitching,  impatient  jerk  as  the  fair  fisher-maiden 
drew  up  the  line  when  she  had  not  a  nibble,  was,  perhaps, 
the  electric  spark  which  fired  the  heart  of  the  hitherto  blame- 
less magistrate.  None,  indeed,  can  tell  how  the  matter  came 
about,  nor  at  what  precise  moment. 

I  may,  however,  observe  that  in  the  interval  between  his 
retirement  from  the  cotton  night-cap  trade  and  his  election 
as  mayor,  Beauvisage  himself  had  practised  the  art  of  angling 
with  distinguished  skill,  and  would  do  so  still  but  for  his 
higher  dignity,  which — unlike  Louis  XIV. — keeps  him  from 
the  shore.  It  struck  him,  no  doubt,  that  the  poor  girl,  with 
more  good-will  than  knowledge,  did  not  set  to  work  the  right 
way  -t  and  it  is  not  impossible  that,  as  she  is  temporarily  under 


Mile.  Antonia  Chocardelle. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  251 

his  jurisdiction,  the  idea  of  guiding  her  into  the  right  way 
was  the  origin  of  his  apparent  misconduct.  This  alone  is 
certain :  crossing  the  bridge  with  her  mother,  Mile.  Beauvi- 
sage,  like  an  enfant  terrible,  suddenly  exclaimed: 

"Why,  papa  is  talking  to  that  Paris  woman !" 

To  make  sure,  by  a  glance,  of  the  monstrous  fact;  to  rush 
down  the  slope;  to  face  her  husband,  whom  she  found  beam- 
ing with  smiles  and  the  blissful  look  of  a  sheep  in  clover;  to 
crush  him  with  a  thundering  "Pray,  what  are  you  doing 
here?"  to  leave  him  no  retreat  but  into  the  river,  and  issue 
her  sovereign  command  that  he  should  go — this,  madame, 
was  the  prompt  action  of  Mme.  Beauvisage  nee  Grevin ;  while 
Mile.  Chocardelle,  at  first  amazed,  but  soon  guessing  what  had 
happened,  went  into  fits  of  the  most  uncontrollable  laughter. 
And  though  these  proceedings  may  be  regarded  as  justifiable, 
they  cannot  be  called  judicious,  for  the  catastrophe  was  known 
to  the  whole  town  by  the  evening,  and  M.  Beauvisage,  con- 
victed of  the  most  deplorable  laxity,  saw  a  still  further  thin- 
ning of  his  reduced  phalanx  of  followers. 

However,  the  Gondreville-Grevin  faction  still  held  its  own, 
till — would  you  believe  it  ? — Mile.  Antonia  once  more  was  the 
means  of  overthrowing  their  last  defences. 

This  is  the  history  of  the  marvel.  Mother  Marie  des 
Anges  wished  for  an  interview  with  the  Comte  de  Gondre- 
ville ;  but  she  did  not  know  how  to  manage  it,  as  she  thought 
it  an  ill-timed  request.  Having  some  severe  remarks  to  make, 
it  would  seem,  she  would  not  ask  the  old  man  to  visit  her 
on  purpose ;  it  was  too  cruel  an  offence  to  charity.  Besides, 
comminations  fired  point-blank  at  the  culprit  miss  their  aim 
quite  as  often  as  they  frighten  them;  whereas  observations 
softly  insinuated  are  far  more  certain  to  have  the  desired 
effect.  Still,  time  was  fleeting;  the  election  takes  place  to- 
morrow— Sunday,  and  to-night  the  preliminary  meeting  is  to 
be  held.  The  poor,  dear  lady  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn, 
when  some  information  reached  her  which  was  not  a  little 
flattering.  A  fair  sinner,  who  had  come  to  Arcis  intending 
to  get  some  money  out  of  Keller,  Gondreville's  son-in-law,  had 


252  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

heard  of  the  virtues  of  Mother  Marie  des  Anges,  of  her  in- 
defatigable kindness  and  her  fine  old  age — in  short,  all  that 
is  said  of  her  in  the  district  where  she  is,  next  to  Danton,  the 
chief  object  of  interest ;  and  this  minx's  great  regret  was  that 
she  dared  not  ask  to  be  admitted  to  her  presence. 

An  hour  later,  this  note  was  delivered  at  the  Hotel  de  la 
Poste : — 

"MADEMOISELLE, — I  am  told  that  you  wish  to  see  me,  and 
do  not  know  how.  Nothing  can  be  easier:  ring  at  the  door 
of  my  solemn  dwelling,  ask  the  Sister  who  opens  it  for  me, 
do  not  be  overawed  by  my  black  dress  and  grave  face,  nor 
fancy  that  I  force  my  advice  on  pretty  girls  who  do  not  ask 
it,  and  may  one  day  be  better  saints  than  I  am. 

"That  is  the  whole  secret  of  an  interview  with  Mother  Marie 
des  Anges,  who  greets  you  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  flB" 

As  you  may  suppose,  madame,  there  was  no  refusing  so 
gracious  an  invitation,  and  before  long  Mile.  Antonia,  in  the 
soberest  garb  at  her  command,  was  on  her  way  to  the  convent. 
I  much  wish  I  could  give  you  authentic  details  of  the  meet- 
ing, which  must  have  been  a  curious  one;  but  nobody  was 
present,  nor  have  I  been  able  to  hear  what  report  of  it  was 
given  by  the  wandering  lamb,  who  came  away  moved  to 
tears. 

When  the  journalist  tried  to  make  fun  of  her  converted 
airs: 

"There,  hold  your  tongue!"  said  Mile.  Antonia.  "You 
never  in  your  life  wrote  such  a  sentence !" 

"What  was  the  sentence,  come?" 

"  'Go,  my  child,'  said  the  good  old  lady,  'the  ways  of  God 
are  beautiful  and  little  known;  there  is  more  stuff  to  make 
a  saint  of  in  a  Magdalen  than  in  many  a  nun/ ': 

And  I  may  add,  madame,  that  as  she  repeated  the  words 
the  poor  girl's  voice  broke,  and  she  put  her  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes.  The  journalist — a  disgrace  to  the  press,  one  of 
those  wretches  who  are  no  more  typical  of  the  press  than  a 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARGIS  253 

bad  priest  is  of  religion — the  journalist  began  to  laugh,  but 
scenting  danger,  he  added,  "And,  pray,  when  do  you  mean 
really  to  go  to  Gondreville  to  speak  to  Keller,  whom  I  shall 
certainly  end  by  kicking — in  a  corner  of  some  article — in 
spite  of  all  Maxime's  instructions  to  the  contrary  ?" 

"Am  I  going  to  meddle  with  any  such  dirty  tricks  ?"  asked 
Antonia,  with  dignity. 

"What  ?     So  now  you  do  not  mean  to  present  your  bill !" 

"I?"  replied  the  devotee  of  Mother  Marie  des  Anges, 
probably  echoing  her  sentiments,  but  in  her  own  words.  "/ 
try  to  blackmail  a  family  in  such  grief?  Why,  the  recollec- 
tion of  it  would  stab  me  on  my  deathbed,  and  I  could  never 
hope  that  God  would  have  mercy  upon  me." 

"Well,  then,  become  an  TJrsuline  and  have  done  with  it." 

"If  only  I  had  courage  enough,  I  should  perhaps  be  happier ; 
but,  at  any  rate,  I  will  not  go  to  Gondreville. — Mother  Marie 
des  Anges  will  settle  everything." 

"Why,  wretched  child,  you  never  left  the  bill  with  her !" 

"I  was  going  to  tear  it  up,  but  she  stopped  me,  and  told 
me  to  give  it  to  her,  and  that  she  would  manage  to  pull  me 
through  by  hook  or  by  crook." 

"Oh,  very  well !  You  were  a  creditor — you  will  be  a 
beggar " 

"No,  for  I  am  giving-  alms.  I  told  Madame  the  Abbess  to 
keep  the  money  for  the  poor." 

"Oh,  if  you  are  going  to  be  a  benefactress  to  convents  with 
your  other  vice  of  angling,  you  will  be  pleasant  company !" 

"You  will  not  have  my  company  for  long,  for  I  am  off 
this  evening,  and  leave  you  to  your  dirty  job." 

"Hallo !     Going  to  be  a  Carmelite  ?" 

"Carmelite  is  good,"  retorted  Antonia  sharply ;  "very  good, 
old  boy,  when  I  am  leaving  a  Louis  XIV." 

For  even  the  most  ignorant  of  these  girls  all  know  the 
story  of  la  Valliere,  whom  they  would  certainly  adopt  as 
their  patron  saint,  if  Saint  Louise  of  Mercy  had  ever  been 
canonized. 

Now,  how  Mother  Marie  des  Anges  worked  the  miracle 


254  THE  MEMBER  FOE  ARCIS 

I  know  not,  but  the  Comte  de  Gondreville's  carriage  was 
standing  this  morning  at  the  convent  gate;  the  miracle,  be 
it  understood,  consisting  not  in  having  brought  that  old  owl 
out,  for  he  hurried  off,  you  may  be  sure,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of 
ten  thousand  francs  to  be  paid,  though  the  money  was  not  to 
come  out  of  his  purse  but  Kellers — it  was  the  family's,  and 
such  misers  as  he  have  a  horror  of  other  folks  spending  when 
they  do  not  think  the  money  well  laid  out.  But  Mother 
Marie  des  Anges  was  not  content  with  having  got  him  to  the 
convent ;  she  did  our  business  too.  On  leaving,  the  Peer  drove 
to  see  his  friend  Grevin;  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  the 
old  notary  told  a  number  of  persons  that  really  his  son-in-law 
was  too  stupid  by  half,  that  he  had  got  himself  into  ill  odor 
through  this  affair  with  the  Parisian  damsel,  and  that  nothing 
could  ever  be  made  of  him. 

Meanwhile,  it  was  rumored  that  the  priests  of  the  two 
parishes  had  each  received,  by  the  hand  of  Mother  Marie  des 
Anges,  a  sum  of  a  thousand  crowns  for  distribution  among  the 
poor,  given  to  her  by  a  benevolent  person  who  wished  to  re- 
main unknown.  Sallenauve  is  furious  because  some  of  our 
agents  are  going  about  sa}ring  that  he  is  the  anonymous  bene- 
factor, and  a  great  many  people  believe  it,  though  the  story 
of  Keller's  bill  has  got  about,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  trace 
this  liberality  to  the  real  donor.  But  when  once  the  wind 
is  favorable,  it  is  difficult  to  trim  the  sails  with  mathematical 
exactitude,  and  you  often  get  more  way  on  than  you  wish. 

M.  Maxime  de  Trailles  cannot  get  over  it,  and  there  is 
every  probability  that  the  defeat,  which  he  must  now  see  is 
inevitable,  will  wreck  his  prospects  of  marriage.  All  that 
can  be  said  with  regard  to  his  overthrow  is  what  we  always 
say  of  an  author  who  has  failed — he  is  a  clever  man,  and  will 
have  his  revenge. 

A  very  strange  man,  madame,  is  this  organist,  whose  name, 
Bricheteau,  is  the  same  as  that  of  one  of  our  great  physicians, 
though  they  are  not  related.  It  is  impossible  to  have  more 
energy,  more  presence  of  mind,  more  devotion  and  intelligence, 
and  there  are  not  two  men  in  Europe  who  can  play  the  organ 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  255 

as  he  does.  You,  who  wish  Nai's  to  be  something  better  than 
a  sirummer,  should  certainly  get  him  to  teach  her.  He  is  a 
man  who  would  really  teach  her  music,  and  he  will  not  oppress 
you  with  his  superiority,  for  he  is  as  modest  as  he  is  gifted. 
He  is  Sallenauve's  poodle — just  as  clever,  just  as  faithful — I 
might  say  just  as  ugly,  if  a  man  with  so  good  and  honest  e 
countenance  could  be  anything  but  good-looking. 

Marie-Gaston  to  the  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade* 

ARCIS-STK-AUBE,  Sunday,  May  12, 183S. 

MADAME, — Yesterday  evening  the  preliminary  meeting 
was  held,  a  somewhat  ridiculous  business,  and  uncommonly 
disagreeable  for  the  candidates;  however,  it  had  to  be  faced. 
When  people  are  going  to  pledge  themselves  to  a  representa- 
tive for  four  or  five  years,  it  is  natural  that  they  should 
wish  to  know  something  about  him.  Is  he  intelligent  ?  Does 
he  really  express  the  opinions  of  which  he  carries  the  ticket  ? 
Will  he  be  friendly  and  affable  to  those  persons  who  may 
have  to  commend  their  interests  to  his  care?  Has  he  deter- 
mination? Will  he  be  able  to  defend  his  ideas — if  he  has 
any?  In  a  word,  will  he  represent  them  worthily,  steadily, 
and  truly? — This  is  the  serious  and  respectable  side  of  the 
institution,  which,  not  being  enjoined  in  any  code,  must  have 
some  good  reason  for  its  existence  to  have  established  itself  so 
firmly  as  a  matter  of  custom. 

But  every  medal  has  its  reverse;  and  on  the  other  side  we 
may  see  the  voter  at  such  meetings  puffed  up  with  arrogance, 
eager  to  display  the  sovereign  authority  which  he  is  about  to 
transfer  to  his  deputy,  selling  it  as  dear  as  he  is  able.  From 
the  impertinence  of  some  of  the  questions  put  to  the  can- 
didate, might  you  not  suppose  that  he  was  a  serf,  over  whom 
each  voter  had  the  power  of  life  and  death?  There  is  not  a 
corner  of  his  private  life  which  the  unhappy  mortal  can  be 
sure  of  hiding  from  prying  curiosity;  as  to  merely  stupid 
questions,  anything  is  conceivable — as  "Does  he  prefer  the 
wines  of  Champagne  to  those  of  Bordeaux?" — At  Bordeaux, 


256  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

where  wine  is  the  religion,  such  a  preference  would  prove  a 
lack  of  patriotism,  and  seriously  endanger  his  return.  Many 
voters  attend  solely  to  enjoy  the  confusion  of  the  nominees. 
They  cross-examine  them,  as  they  call  it,  to  amuse  themselves, 
as  children  spin  a  cockchafer ;  or  as  of  yore  old  judges  watched 
the  torture  of  a  criminal,  and  even  nowadays  young  doctors 
enjoy  an  autopsy  or  an  operation.  Many  have  not  even  so 
refined  a  taste;  they  come  simply  for  the  fun  of  the  hubbub, 
the  confusion  of  voices  which  is  certain  to  arise  under  such 
circumstances;  or  they  look  forward  to  an  opportunity  for  dis- 
playing some  pleasing  accomplishment;  for  instance,  at  the 
moment  when — as  the  reports  of  the  sittings  in  the  Chamber 
have  it — the  tumult  is  at  its  height,  it  is  not  uncommon  to 
hear  a  miraculously  accurate  imitation  of  the  crowing  of  a 
cock,  or  the  yelping  of  a  dog  when  his  foot  is  trodden  on. 
Intelligence,  which  alone  should  be  allowed  to  vote,  having, 
like  d'Aubign6 — Mme.  de  Maintenon's  brother — taken  its  pro- 
motion in  cash,  we  cannot  be  surprised  to  find  stupid  folks 
among  the  electors,  and  indeed  they  are  numerous  enough  in 
this  world  to  have  a  claim  to  be  represented. 

The  meeting  was  held  in  a  good-sized  hall,  where  an  eating- 
house  keeper  gives  a  dance  every  Sunday.  There  is  a  raised 
gallery  for  the  orchestra,  which  was  reserved  as  a  sort  of 
platform,  to  which  a  few  non-voters  were  admitted;  I  was 
one  of  these  privileged  few.  Some  ladies  occupied  front  seats : 
Mme.  Marion,  the  aunt  of  Giguet  the  advocate,  one  of  the 
candidates ;  Mme.  and  Mile.  Mollot,  the  wife  and  daughter  of 
the  clerk  of  assize,  and  a  few  others  whose  names  and  position 
I  have  forgotten.  Mme.  and  Mile.  Beauvisage,  like  Brutus 
and  Cassius,  were  conspicuous  by  their  absence. 

Before  M.  Beauvisage  presented  himself  for  election,  M. 
Simon  Giguet,  it  would  seem,  was  supposed  to  have  a  good 
chance;  now,  the  appearance  in  the  field  of  our  friend 
Sallenauve,  who  in  his  turn  has  outstripped  the  mayor,  leaves 
the  lawyer  two  rungs  behind.  His  father,  an  old  Colonel  of 
the  Empire,  is  greatly  respecte1  in  the  neighborhood;  and  as 
a  testimony  of  their  regret  at  not  being  able  to  elect  his 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  257 

son,  they  unanimously  voted  him  into  the  president's  chair. 

Giguet  was  the  first  candidate  to  address  the  meeting;  his 
speech  was  long,  a  medley  of  commonplace ;  very  few  questions 
were  put  to  him  to  be  recorded  in  this  report.  Every  one 
felt  that  the  real  battle  was  not  to  be  fought  here. 

Then  M.  Beauvisage  was  called  for.  Maitre  Achille  Pigoult 
rose  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  speak,  and  said: 

"M.  le  Maire  has  been  very  unwell  since  yesterday " 

Shouts  and  roars  of  laughter  interrupted  the  speaker. 

Colonel  Giguet  rang  the  bell  with  which  he  had  been  duly 
provided  for  a  long  time  before  silence  was  restored.  At  the 
first  lull,  Maitre  Pigoult  tried  again : 

"As  I  had  the  honor  of  saying,  gentlemen,  M.  le  Maire, 
suffering  as  he  is  from  an  attack,  which,  though  not  seri- 
ous  " 

A  fresh  outbreak,  more  noisy  than  the  first.  Like  all 
old  soldiers,  Colonel  Giguet's  temper  is  neither  very  long- 
suffering  nor  altogether  parliamentary.  He  started  to  his 
feet,  exclaiming: 

"Gentleman,  this  is  not  one  of  Frappart's  balls"  (the  name 
of  the  owner  of  the  room)  ;  "I  must  beg  you  to  behave  with 
greater  decency,  otherwise  I  shall  resign  the  chair." 

It  is  to  be  supposed  that  a  body  of  men  prefer  to  be  rough- 
ridden,  for  this  exhortation  was  received  with  applause,  and 
silence  seemed  fairly  well  restored. 

"As  I  was  saying,  to  my  regret,"  Maitre  Achille  began  once 
more,  varying  his  phrase  each  time,  "having  a  tiresome  in- 
disposition which,  though  not  serious,  will  confine  him  to  his 
room  for  some  days " 

"Loss  of  voice !"  said  somebody. 

"Our  excellent  and  respected  Mayor,"  Achille  Pigoult  went 
on,  heedless  of  the  interruption,  "could  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  attending  this  meeting.  However,  Madame  Beauvisage, 
whom  I  had  the  honor  of  seeing  but  just  now,  told  me,  and 
commissioned  me  to  tell  you,  that  for  the  present  M.  Beau- 
visage  foregoes  the  honor  of  claiming  your  suffrages,  begging 


258  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

such  gentlemen  as  had  expressed  their  interest  ID  his  election 
to  transfer  their  votes  to  M.  Simon  Giguet." 

This  Achille  Pigoult  is  a  very  shrewd  individual,  who  had 
very  skilfully  brought  about  the  intervention  of  Mme.  Beau- 
visage,  thus  emphasizing  her  conjugal  supremacy.  The  as- 
sembly were,  however,  too  thoroughly  provincial  to  appreciate 
this  little  dirty  trick.  In  the  country  women  are  constantly 
mixed  up  with  their  husbands'  concerns,  even  the  most 
masculine ;  and  the  old  story  of  the  priest's  housekeeper,  who 
replied  quite  seriously,  "We  cannot  say  mass  so  cheap  as 
that,"  has  to  us  a  spice  of  the  absurd  which  in  many  small 
towns  would  not  be  recognized. 

Finally,  Sallenauve  rose,  and  I  was  at  once  struck  by  the 
calm  ease  and  dignity  of  his  demeanor  on  the  platform.  This 
is  a  most  reassuring  promise  for  other  and  more  serious  oc- 
casions, for  of  one  thing  there  can  be  no  doubt — the  char- 
acter and  quality  of  a  man's  audience  have  hardly  anything  to 
do  with  his  sensations.  To  the  speaker  who  has  fear  at  his 
heels  it  is  all  the  same  whether  he  is  addressing  lords  or 
louts.  They  are  eyes  to  stare  at  him,  ears  to  hear  him;  what 
he  sees  before  him  are  not  men,  but  one  man — the  meeting, 
of  whom  he  is  conscious  as  a  mass,  not  analyzing  it  into 
elements. 

After  briefly  enumerating  the  facts  which  tie  him  to  the 
district,  and  alluding  with  skill  and  dignity  to  his  birth,  as 
not  being  the  same  as  most  people's,  Sallenauve  set  forth  his 
political  views.  He  esteems  a  republic  as  the  best  form  of 
government,  but  believes  it  impossible  to  maintain  in  France ; 
hence  he  cannot  wish  for  it.  He  believes  that  really  repre- 
sentative government,  with  the  politics  of  the  camarilla  so 
firmly  muzzled  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  feared  from  its 
constant  outbreaks  and  incessant  schemes,  may  tend  largely 
to  the  dignity  and  prosperity  of  a  nation.  Liberty  and 
Equality,  the  two  great  principles  which  triumphed  in  '89, 
have  the  soundest  guarantees  from  that  form  of  government. 
As  to  the  possible  trickery  that  kingly  power  may  bring  to 
bear  against  them,  institutions  cannot  prevent  it.  Men  and 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  259 

the  moral  sense,  rather  than  the  laws,  must  be  on  the  alert 
in  such  a  case;  and  he,  Sallenauve,  will  always  be  one  of 
these  living  obstacles. — He  expressed  himself  as  an  ardent  sup- 
porter of  freedom  in  teaching,  said  that  in  his  opinion  further 
economy  might  be  brought  to  bear  on  the  budget,  that  there 
were  too  many  paid  officials  in  the  Chamber,  and  that  the 
Court  especially  was  too  strongly  represented. — The  electors 
who  should  vote  for  him  were  not  to  expect  that  he  would 
ever  take  any  step  in  their  behalf  which  was  not  based  on  rea- 
son and  justice.  It  had  been  said  that  the  word  "impossible" 
was  not  French.  Yet  there  was  one  impossibility  that  he 
recognized,  and  by  which  he  should  always  feel  it  an  honor 
to  be  beaten,  namely,  any  infringement  of  justice  or  the  least 
attempt  to  defeat  the  right.  (Loud  applause.) 

Silence  being  restored,  one  of  the  electors  spoke: 

"Monsieur,"  said  he,  after  due  license  from  the  chairman, 
"you  have  said  that  you  will  accept  no  office  from  the  Govern- 
ment. Is  not  that  by  implication  casting  a  slur  on  those  who 
are  in  office  ?  My  name  is  Godivet ;  I  am  the  town  registrar ; 
I  do  not  therefore  conceive  myself  open  to  the  scorn  of  my 
respected  fellow-citizens." 

Said  Sallenauve: 

"I  am  delighted,  monsieur,  to  hear  that  'the  Government 
has  conferred  on  you  functions  which  you  fulfil,  I  am  sure, 
with  perfect  rectitude  and  ability.  But  may  I  inquire 
whether  you  were  from  the  first  at  the  head  of  the  office  you 
manage  ?" 

"Certainly  not,  monsieur.  I  was  for  three  years  super- 
numerary ;  I  then  rose  through  the  various  grades ;  and  I  may 
honestly  say  that  my  modest  promotion  was  never  due  to 
favor." 

"Well,  then,  monsieur,  what  would  you  say  if  I,  with 
my  title  as  deputy — supposing  me  to  secure  the  suffrages  of 
the  voters  in  this  district — I,  who  have  never  been  a 
supernumerary,  and  have  passed  no  grade,  who  should  have 
done  the  Ministry  no  service  but  that  of  voting  on  its  side — 
if  I  were  suddenly  appointed  to  be  director-general  of  your 
department — and  such  things  have  been  seen?" 


260  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"I  should  say — I  should  say,  monsieur,  that  the  choice 
was  a  good  one,  since  the  King  would  have  made  it." 

"No,  monsieur,  you  would  not  say  so:  or  if  you  said  it 
aloud,  which  I  cannot  believe  possible,  you  would  think  to 
yourself  that  such  an  appointment  was  ridiculous  and  unjust. 
'Where  the  deuce  did  the  man  learn  the  difficult  business  of 
an  office  when  he  has  been  a  sculptor  all  his  life  ?'  you  would 
ask.  And  you  would  be  right  not  to  approve  of  the  royal 
caprice;  for  acquired  rights,  long  and  honorable  service,  and 
the  regular  progression  of  advancement  would  be  nullified 
by  this  system  of  selection  by  the  Sovereign's  pleasure.  And 
it  is  to  show  that  I  disapprove  of  the  crying  abuse  I  am 
denouncing;  it  is  because  I  do  not  think  it  just,  or  right,  or 
advantageous  that  a  man  should  be  thus  raised  over  other 
men's  heads  to  the  highest  posts  in  the  public  service,  that  I 
pledge  myself  to  accept  no  promotion.  And  do  you  still  think, 
monsieur,  that  I  am  contemning  such  functions?  Do  I  not 
rather  treat  them  with  the  greatest  respect  ?" 

M.  Godivet  expressed  himself  satisfied. 

"But  look  here,  sir,"  cried  another  elector,  after  requesting 
leave  in  a  somewhat  vinous  voice,  "you  say  you  will  never 
ask  for  anything  for  your  electors;  then  what  good  will  you 
be  to  us?" 

"I  never  said,  my  good  friend,  that  I  would  ask  for  noth- 
ing for  my  constituents;  I  said  I  would  ask  for  nothing  but 
what  was  just.  That,  I  may  say,  I  will  demand  with  de- 
termination and  perseverance,  for  justice  ought  always  to 
be  thus  served." 

"Not  but  what  there  are  other  ways  of  serving  it,"  the  man 
went  on.  "For  instance,  there  was  that  lawsuit  what  they  made 
me  lose  against  Jean  Eemy — we  had  had  words,  you  see,  about 
a  landmark " 

"Well,"  said  Colonel  Giguet,  interposing,  "you  are  not,  I 
suppose,  going  to  tell  us  the  history  of  your  lawsuit  and  speak 
disrespectfully  of  the  magistrates  ?" 

"The  magistrates,  Colonel?  I  respect  them,  which  I  was 
a  member  of  the  municipality  for  six  weeks  in  '93,  and  I  know 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  261 

the  law. — But  to  come  back  to  my  point.  I  want  to  ask  the 
gentleman,  who  is  here  to  answer  me  just  as  much  as  the 
others,  what  is  his  opinion  of  the  licensed  tobacco  jobs." 

"My  opinion  of  tobacco  licenses?  That  would  be  a  little 
difficult  to  state  briefly.  However,  I  may  go  so  far  as  to  say 
that,  if  I  am  correctly  informed,  they  do  not  seem  to  me  to 
be  always  judiciously  granted." 

"Well  done  you !  You  are  a  man !"  cried  the  voter,  "and 
I  shall  vote  for  you,  for  they  won't  make  a  fool  of  you  in  a 
hurry.  I  believe  you;  the  tobacco  licenses  are  given  away 
anyhow.  Why,  there  is  Jean  Eemy's  girl — a  bad  neighbor  he 
was ;  he  has  never  been  a  yard  away  from  his  plough  tail,  and 
he  fights  with  his  wife  every  day  of  the  week,  and " 

"But,  my  good  fellow,"  said  the  chairman,  interrupting 
him,  "you  are  really  encroaching  on  these  gentlemen's  pa- 
tience  " 

"No,  no;  let  him  speak !"  was  shouted  on  all  sides. 

The  man  amused  them,  and  Sallenauve  gave  the  Colonel 
to  understand  that  he  too  would  like  to  know  what  the  fellow 
was  coming  to.  So  the  elector  went  on : 

"Then  what  I  say  is  this,  saving  your  presence,  my  dear 
Colonel,  there  was  that  girl  of  Jean  "Kemy's — and  I  will  never 
give  him  any  peace,  not  even  in  hell,  for  my  landmark  was 
in  its  right  place  and  your  experts  were  all  wrong — well,  what 
does  the  girl  do?  There  she  leaves  her  father  and  mother, 
and  off  she  goes  to  Paris:  what  is  she  up  to  in  Paris?  Well, 
I  didn't  go  to  see ;  but  if  she  doesn't  scrape  acquaintance  with 
a  member  of  the  Chamber,  and  at  this  day  she  has  a  licensed 
tobacco  shop  in  the  Eue  Mouffetard,  one  of  the  longest  streets 
in  Paris;  whereas,  if  I  should  kick  the  bucket  to-day  or  to- 
morrow, there  is  my  wife,  the  widow  of  a  hardworking  man, 
crippled  with  rheumatism  all  along  of  sleeping  in  the  woods 
during  the  terror  of  1815 — and  where's  the  tobacco  license  she 
would  get,  I  should  like  to  know!" 

•'But  you  are  not  dead  yet,"  said  one  and  another  in  reply 
to  this  wonderful  record  of  service.  And  the  Colonel,  to  put 
an  end  to  this  burlesque  scene,  gave  the  next  turn  to  a  little 
pastrycook,  a  well-known  republican. 


262  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

The  new  speaker  asked  Sallenauve  in  a  high  falsetto  voice 
this  insidious  question,  which  at  Arcis  indeed  may  be  called 
national. 

"What,  sir,  is  your  opinion  of  Danton?" 

"Monsieur  Dauphin,"  said  the  President,  "I  must  be  al- 
lowed to  point  out  to  you  that  Danton  is  now  a  part  of  his- 
tory." 

"The  Pantheon  of  History,  Monsieur  le  President,  is  the 
proper  term." 

"Well,  well ! — History,  or  the  Pantheon  of  History — Dan- 
ton  seems  to  me  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter  in 
hand." 

"Allow  me,  Mr.  President,"  said  Sallenauve.  "Though  the 
question  has  apparently  no  direct  bearing  on  the  objects  of 
this  meeting,  still,  in  a  town  which  still  rings  with  the  fame 
of  that  illustrious  name,  I  cannot  shirk  the  opportunity  offered 
me  for  giving  a  proof  of  iny  impartiality  and  independence  by 
pronouncing  on  that  great  man's  memory." 

"Yes,  yes!  hear,  hear!"  cried  the  audience,  almost  unani- 
mously. 

"I  am  firmly  convinced,"  Sallenauve  went  on,  "that  if 
Danton  had  lived  in  times  as  calm  and  peaceful  as  ours,  he 
would  have  been — as  indeed  he  was — a  good  husband,  a  good 
father,  a  warm  and  faithful  friend,  an  attaching  and  amiable 
character,  and  that  his  remarkable  talents  would  have  raised 
him  to  an  eminent  position  in  the  State  and  in  Society." 

"Hear,  hear  !  bravo !  capital !" 

"Born,  on  the  contrary,  at  a  period  of  great  troubles,  iu 
the  midst  of  a  storm  of  unchained  and  furious  passions,  Dan- 
ton,  of  all  men,  was  the  one  to  blaze  up  in  this  atmosphere 
of  flame.  Danton  was  a  burning  torch,  and  his  crimson 
glow  was  only  too  apt  for  such  scenes  of  blood  and  horror  as 
I  will  not  now  remind  you  of. 

"But,  it  has  been  said,  the  independence  of  the  nation  had 
to  be  saved ;  traitors  and  sneaks  had  to  be  punished ;  in  short, 
a  sacrifice  had  to  be  consummated,  terrible  but  necessary  for 
the  requirements  of  public  safety. — Gentlemen,  I  do  not  ac- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  263 

cept  this  view  of  the  matter.  To  kill  wholesale,  and,  as  has 
been  proved  twenty  times  over,  without  any  necessity — to  kill 
unarmed  men,  women,  and  prisoners  is  under  any  hypothesis 
an  atrocious  crime;  those  who  ordered  it,  those  who  allowed 
it,  those  who  did  the  deeds  are  to  me  included  in  one  and  the 
same  condemnation !" 

I  wish,  madame,  that  I  could  adequately  describe  Salle- 
nauve's  tone  and  face  as  he  pronounced  this  anathema.  You 
know  how  his  countenance  is  transfigured  when  a  glowing 
thought  fires  it. — The  audience  sat  in  gloomy  silence;  he 
had  evidently  hit  them  hard,  but  under  his  strong  hand  the 
steed  dared  not  rear. 

"Still,"  he  went  on,  "there  are  two  possible  sequels  to  a 
crime  committed  and  irreparable — repentance  and  expiation. 
Danton  expressed  his  repentance  not  in  words,  he  was  too 
proud  for  that — he  did  better,  he  acted;  and  at  the  sound 
of  the  knife  of  the  head-cutting  machine,  which  was  working 
without  pause  or  respite,  at  the  risk  of  hastening  his  turn 
to  lose  his  own,  he  ventured  to  move  for  a  Committee  of 
Clemency.  It  was  an  almost  infallible  way  of  expiation, 
and  when  the  day  of  expiation  came  we  all  know  that  he  did 
not  shrink!  By  meeting  his  death  as  a  reward  for  his  brave 
attempt  to  stay  the  tide  of  bloodshed,  it  may  be  said,  gentle- 
men, that  Danton's  figure  and  memory  are  purged  of  tltt 
crimson  stain  that  the  terrible  September  had  left  upon  them. 
Cut  off  at  the  age  of  thirty-five,  flung  to  posterity,  Danton 
dwells  in  our  memory  as  a  man  of  powerful  intellect,  of  fine 
private  virtues,  and  of  more  than  one  generous  action — • 
these  were  himself;  his  frenzied  crimes  were  the  contagion 
of  the  age. 

"In  short,  in  speaking  of  such  a  man  as  he  was,  the  jus- 
tice is  most  unjust  which  is  not  tempered  with  large  allow- 
ances— and,  gentlemen,  there  is  a  woman  who  understood 
and  pronounced  on  Danton  better  than  you  or  I,  better  than 
any  orator  or  historian — the  woman  who,  in  a  sublime  spirit 
of  charity,  said  to  the  relentless,  'He  is  with  God!  Let  us 
pray  for  the  peace  of  his  soul !'  'J 


264  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

The  snare  thus  avoided  by  this  judicious  allusion  to  Mother 
Marie  des  Anges,  the  meeting  seemed  satisfied,  and  we  might 
fancy  that  the  candidate  was  at  the  end  of  his  examination. 
The  Colonel  was  preparing  to  call  for  a  show  of  hands  when 
several  voters  demurred,  saying  that  there  were  still  two  mat- 
ters requiring  explanation  by  the  nominee — Sallenauve  had 
said  that  he  would  always  stand  in  the  way  of  any  trickery 
attempted  by  the  Sovereign  authority  against  National  In- 
stitutions. What  were  they  to  understand  by  resistance;  did 
he  mean  armed  resistance,  riots,  barricades?'' 

"Barricades,"  said  Sallenauve,  "have  always  seemed  to 
me  to  be  machines  which  turn  and  crush  those  who  erected 
them;  nay,  we  are  bound  to  believe  that  it  is  in  the  nature 
of  a  rebellion  to  serve,  ultimately,  the  purpose  of  the  Govern- 
ment, since  on  every  occasion  the  police  is  presently  accused 
of  beginning  it. — The  resistance  I  shall  offer  will  always  be 
legal,  and  carried  on  by  lawful  means — the  press,  speeches 
in  the  Chamber,  and  patience — the  real  strength  of  the  op- 
pressed and  vanquished." 

If  you  knew  Latin,  madame,  I  would  say,  "In  cauda 
venenum,"  that  is  to  say,  that  the  serpent's  poison  is  in  its 
tail — a  statement  of  the  ancients  which  modern  science  has 
failed  to  confirm. 

M.  de  1'Estorade  was  not  mistaken:  Sallenauve's  private 
life  was  made  a  matter  of  prying  inquiry;  and,  under  the 
inspiration,  no  doubt,  of  Maxime,  the  virtuous  Maxime,  who 
had  flung  out  several  hints  through  the  journalist  intrusted 
with  his  noble  plot,  our  friend  was  at  last  questioned  as  to 
the  handsome  Italian  he  keeps  "hidden"  in  his  house  in  Paris. 
Sallenauve  was  no  more  put  out  of  countenance  than  he  was 
in  your  presence  and  M.  de  1'Estorade's;  he  merely  wished 
to  know  in  return  whether  the  meeting  thought  proper  to 
waste  its  time  in  listening  to  a  romance  worthy  to  fill  the 
space  at  the  bottom  of  a  newspaper.  When  a  body  of  men 
are  assembled  together,  madame,  as  your  husband  may  have 
told  you,  they  are  like  grown-up  children,  who  are  only  too 
glad  to  hear  a  long  story 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  265 

But  Sallenauve  has  come  in,  and  he  tells  me  that  the 
committee  chosen  by  the  constituents  is  such  as  to  make  his 
election  presumably  certain.  So  I  put  the  pen  in  his  hands ; 
he  himself  will  tell  you  the  story  of  which  you  were  cheated 
at  his  last  visit,  and  he  will  close  this  letter. 

Sallenauve  to  Madame  de  I'Estorade. 

Seven  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

MADAME, — The  rather  abrupt  manner  of  my  leave-taking 
when  I  bid  you  and  M.  de  I'Estorade  farewell,  that  night 
after  our  excursion  to  the  College  Henri  IV.,  is  by  now  quite 
accounted  for,  no  doubt,  by  the  anxieties  of  every  kind  that 
were  agitating  me;  Marie-Gaston,  I  know,  has  told  you  the 
result.  I  must  own  that  in  the  state  of  uneasy  excitement 
in  which  I  then  was,  the  belief  which  M.  de  I'Estorade  seemed 
inclined  to  give  to  the  scandal  he  spoke  of  caused  me  both 
pain  and  surprise.  "What,"  thought  I  to  myself,  "is  it  possi- 
ble that  a  man  of  so  much  moral  and  common  sense  as  M.  de 
I'Estorade  can  a  priori  suppose  me  capable  of  loose  conduct, 
when  on  all  points  he  sees  me  anxious  to  give  my  life  such 
gravity  and  respectability  as  may  command  esteem?  And  if 
he  has  such  an  opinion  of  my  libertine  habits,  it  would  be 
so  amazingly  rash  to  admit  me  on  a  footing  of  intimacy  in 
his  house  with  his  wife,  that  his  present  politeness  must  be 
essentially  temporary  and  precarious.  The  recollection  of 
the  service  I  had  so  recently  done  him  may  have  made  him 
think  it  necessary  for  the  time  being,  but  I  shall  be  dropped 
at  the  first  opportunity." — And  it  occurred  to  me,  madame, 
that  evening,  that  the  places  assigned  to  us,  perhaps  ere  long 
in  hostile  political  camps,  might  be  the  pretext  on  which  M. 
de  I'Estorade  would  dismiss  .me,  as  it  were,  to  what  he  called 
my  shameless  connection. 

An  hour  or  so  before  I  observed  these  distressing  signs, 
I  had  given  you  my  confidence  concerning  a  matter  which 
might,  at  any  rate,  have  preserved  me  from  the  mortification 
of  finding  that  you  had  as  bad  an  impression  of  me  as  M. 


266  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

de  1'Estorade.  I  did  not,  therefore,  see  any  immediate  need 
for  justifying  myself,  and  two  long  stories  in  one  evening 
seemed  to  me  too  severe  a  trial  for  your  patience. 

As  to  M.  de  1'Estorade,  I  was,  I  confess,  nettled  with  him, 
finding  him  so  recklessly  ready  to  echo  a  calumny  against 
which  I  thought  he  might  have  defended  me,  considering  the 
nature  of  the  acquaintance  we  had  formed,  so  to  him  I  would 
not  condescend  to  explain:  this  I  now  withdraw,  but  at  the 
time  it  was  the  true  expression  of  very  keen  annoyance. 

The  chances  of  an  election  contest  have  necessitated  my 
giving  the  explanation,  in  the  first  instance,  to  a  public 
meeting,  and  I  have  been  so  happy  as  to  find  that  men  in  a 
mass  are  more  capable  perhaps  than  singly  of  appreciating 
a  generous  impulse  and  the  genuine  ring  of  truth.  I  was 
called  upon,  madame,  under  circumstances  so  unforeseen 
and  so  strange  as  to  trench  very  nearly  on  the  ridiculous,  to 
make  a  statement  of  almost  incredible  facts  to  an  audience 
of  a  very  mixed  character.  M.  de  1'Estorade,  in  his  own 
drawing-room,  might  have  accepted  them  only  as  pending 
further  evidence;  here,  on  the  contrary,  they  met  with  trust 
and  sympathy. 

This  is  my  story,  very  much  as  I  told  it  to  my  constituents 
at  their  requisition : 

Some  months  before  I  left  Eome,  we  received  a  visit  al- 
most every  evening  in  the  cafe  where  the  Academy  pupils  are 
wont  to  meet  from  an  Italian  named  Benedetto.  He  called 
himself  a  musician,  and  was  not  at  all  a  bad  one;  but  we 
were  warned  that  he  was  also  a  spy  in  the  employment  of  the 
Eoman  police,  which  accounted  for  his  constant  regularity 
and  his  predilection  for  our  company.  At  any  rate,  he  was 
a  very  amusing  buffoon;  and  as  we  cared  not  a  straw  for  the 
Eoman  police,  we  were  more  than  tolerant  of  the  fellow;  we 
tempted  him  to  frequent  the  place — a  matter  of  no  great 
difficulty,  since  he  had  a  passion  for  zabajon,  poncio  spongato, 
and  spuma  di  lat'te. 

One  evening  as  he  came  in,  he  was  asked  by  one  of  our 
party  who  the  woman  was  with  whom  he  had  been  seen  walk- 
ing that  morning. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  267 

"My  wife,  signor !"  said  the  Italian,  swelling  with  pride. 

"Yours,  Benedetto  ?    You  the  husband  of  such  a  beauty  ?" 

"Certainly,  by  your  leave,  signor." 

"What  next !  You  are  stumpy,  ugly,  a  toper.  And  it 
is  said  that  you  are  a  police  agent  into  the  bargain;  she,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  as  handsome  as  the  huntress  Diana." 

"I  charmed  her  by  my  musical  gifts;  she  dies  of  love  for 
me." 

"Well,  then,  if  she  is  your  wife,  you  ought  to  let  her  pose 
for  our  friend  Dorlange,  who  at  this  moment  is  meditating  a 
statue  of  Pandora.  He  will  never  find  such  another  model." 

"That  may  be  managed,"  replied  the  Italian. 

And  he  went  off  into  the  most  amusing  tomfoolery,  which 
made  us  all  forget  the  suggestion  that  had  been  made. 

I  was  in  my  studio  next  morning,  and  with  me  certain 
painters  and  sculptors,  my  fellow-pupils,  when  Benedetto 
came  in,  and  with  him  a  remarkably  beautiful  woman.  I 
need  not  describe  her  to  you,  madame;  you  have  seen  her. 
A  cheer  of  delight  hailed  the  Italian,  who  said,  addressing 
me: 

"Ecco  la  Pandora! — Well,  what  do  you  think  of  her?" 

"She  is  beautiful;  but  will  she  sit?" 

"Peugh !"  was  Benedetto's  reply,  as  much  as  to  say,  "I 
should  like  to  see  her  refuse." 

"But,"  said  I,  "so  perfect  a  model  will  want  high  pay." 

"No,  the  honor  is  enough.  But  you  will  make  a  bust  of 
me — a  terra-cotta  head — and  make  her  a  present  of  it." 

"Well,  then,  gentlemen,"  said  I  to  the  others,  "you  will 
have  the  goodness  to  leave  us  to  ourselves." 

No  one  heeded;  judging  of  the  wife  by  the  husband,  all 
the  young  scapegraces  crowded  rudely  round  the  woman,  who, 
blushing,  agitated,  and  scared  by  all  these  eyes,  looked  rather 
like  a  caged  panther  baited  by  peasants  at  a  fair.  Benedetto 
went  up  and  took  her  aside  to  explain  to  her  in  Italian  thai 
the  French  signore  wanted  to  take  her  likeness  at  full  length, 
and  that  she  must  dispense  with  her  garments.  She  gave 
him  one  fulminating  look  and  made  for  the  door.  Benedetto 


568  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

rushed  forward  to  stop  her,  while  my  companions — the 
virtuous  brood  of  the  studio — barred  the  way. 

A  struggle  began  between  the  husband  and  wife;  but  as 
I  saw  that  Benedetto  was  defending  his  side  of  the  argument 
with  the  greatest  brutality,  I  flew  into  a  passion;  with  one 
arm,  for  I  am  luckily  pretty  strong,  I  pushed  the  wretch 
off,  and  turning  to  the  youths  with  a  determined  air — 
"Come,"  said  I,  "let  her  pass !"  I  escorted  the  woman,  still 
quivering  with  anger,  to  the  door.  She  thanked  me  briefly 
in  Italian,  and  vanished  without  further  hindrance. 

On  returning  to  Benedetto,  who  was  gesticulating  threats, 
I  told  him  to  go,  that  his  conduct  was  infamous,  and  that  if 
I  should  hear  that  he  had  ill  treated  his  wife,  he  would  have 
an  account  to  settle  with  me. 

"Debole!"  (idiot!)  said  the  wretch  with  a  shrug. 

But  he  went,  followed,  as  he  had  been  welcomed,  by  a 
cheer. 

Some  days  elapsed.  We  saw  no  more  of  Benedetto,  and 
at  first  were  rather  uneasy.  Some  of  us  even  tried  to  find 
him  in  the  Trastevere  suburb,  where  he  was  known  to  live; 
but  research  in  that  district  is  not  easy;  the  French  students 
are  in  ill  odor  with  the  Trasteverini,  who  always  suspect 
them  of  schemes  to  seduce  their  wives  and  daughters,  and  the 
men  are  always  ready  with  the  knife.  By  the  end  of  the 
week  no  one,  as  you  may  suppose,  ever  thought  of  the  buffoon 
again. 

Three  days  before  I  left  Eome  his  wife  came  into  my  studio. 
She  could  speak  a  little  bad  French. 

"You  go  to  Paris,"  said  she.     "I  come  to  go  with  you." 

"Go  with  me? — And  your  husband?" 

"Dead,"  said  she  calmly. 

An  idea  flashed  through  my  brain. 

"And  you  killed  him?"  said  I  to  the  Trasteverina.  She 
nodded : 

"But  I  try  to  killed  me  too." 

"How?"  asked  I. 

"After  he  had  so  insult  me/'  said  she,  "he  came  to  our 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  269 

house,  he  beat  me  like  always,  and  then  went  out  all  day. 
The  night  he  came  back  and  showed  me  a  pistol-gun.  I 
snatch  it  away;  he  is  drunk;  I  throw  that  briccone  (wretch) 
on  his  bed;  and  he  go  to  sleep.  Then  I  stuff  up  the  door 
and  the  window,  and  I  put  much  charcoal  on  a  brasero,  and 
I  light  it;  and  I  have  a  great  headache,  and  then  I  know 
nothing  till  the  next  day.  The  neighbors  have  smell  the  char- 
coal, and  have  make  me  alive  again — but  he — he  is  dead  be- 
fore." 

"And  the  police?" 

"The  police  know;  and  that  he  had  want  to  sell  me  to  an 
English.  For  that  he  had  want  to  make  me  vile  to  you,  then 
I  would  not  want  to  resist.  The  judge  he  tell  me  go — quite 
right.  So  I  have  confess,  and  have  absolution." 

"But,  cara  mia,  what  can  you  do  in  France?  I  an?  not 
rich  as  the  English  are." 

A  scornful  smile  passed  over  her  beautiful  face. 

"I  shall  cost  you  nothing,"  said  she.  "On  the  contrary, 
I  shall  save  much  money." 

"How?"  said  I. 

"I  will  be  the  model  for  your  statues;  yes,  I  am  willing. 
Benedetto  used  to  say  I  was  very  well  made  and  a  very  good 
housewife.  If  Benedetto  would  have  agreed,  we  could  have 
lived  happily,  perche  I  have  a  talent  too." 

And  taking  down  a  guitar  that  hung  in  a  corner  of  my 
studio,  she  sang  a  bravura  air,  accompanying  herself  with 
immense  energy. 

"In  France,"  she  said  when  it  was  finished,  "I  shall  have 
lessons  and  go  on  the  stage,  where  I  shall  succeed — that  was 
Benedetto's  plan." 

"But  why  not  go  on  the  stage  in  Italy?" 

"Since  Benedetto  died,  I  am  in  hiding;  the  Englishman 
wants  to  carry  me  off.  I  mean  to  go  to  France;  as  you  see, 
I  have  been  learning  French.  If  I  stay  here,  it  will  be  in 
the  Tiber." 

M.  de  1'Estorade  will  admit  that  by  abandoning  such  a 
character  to  its  own  devices,  I  might  fear  to  be  the  cause  of 


270  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

some  disaster,  so  I  consented  to  allow  Signora  Luigia  to  ac- 
company me  to  Paris.  She  manages  my  house  with  remark- 
able ability  and  economy;  she  herself  begged  to  stand  as 
model  for  my  Pandora;  but  you  will  believe  me,  madame, 
when  I  say  that  the  corpse  of  Benedetto  lay  ever  between 
his  wife  and  me  during  this  perilous  test.  I  gave  my  house- 
keeper a  singing  master,  and  she  is  now  ready  to  appear  in 
public. 

In  spite  of  her  dreams  of  the  stage,  she  is  pious,  as  all 
Italian  women  are ;  she  has  joined  the  fraternity  of  the  Virgin 
at  Saint-Sulpice,  my  parish  church,  and  during  the  month 
of  Mary,  now  a  few  days  old,  the  good  woman  who  lets  chairs 
counts  on  a  rich  harvest  from  her  fine  singing.  She  attends 
every  service,  confesses  and  communicates  frequently;  and 
her  director,  a  highly  respectable  old  priest,  came  to  me  lately 
to  beg  that  she  might  no  longer  serve  as  the  model  for  my 
statues,  saying  that  she  would  never  listen  to  his  injunctions 
on  the  subject,  fancying  her  honor  pledged  to  me.  I  yielded, 
of  course,  to  his  representations,  all  the  more  readily  because 
in  the  event  of  my  being  elected,  as  seems  extremely  probable, 
I  intend  to  part  with  this  woman.  In  the  more  conspicuous 
position  which  I  shall  then  fill,  she  would  be  the  object  of 
comments  not  less  fatal  to  her  reputation  and  prospects  than 
to  my  personal  dignity.  I  must  be  prepared  for  some  re- 
sistance on  her  part,  for  she  seems  to  have  formed  a  sincere 
attachment  to  me,  and  gave  me  ample  proof  of  it  when  I 
was  wounded  in  that  duel.  Nothing  could  hinder  her  from 
sitting  up  with  me  every  night,  and  the  surgeon  told  me  that 
even  among  the  Sisters  at  his  hospital  he  had  never  met  with 
a  more  intelligent  nurse  or  more  fervid  charity. 

I  have  spoken  with  Marie-Gaston  of  the  difficulty  I  an- 
ticipate in  the  way  of  this  separation.  He  fears  it,  he  says, 
even  more  than  I.  Hitherto,  to  this  poor  soul,  Paris  has 
been  my  house;  and  the  mere  idea  of  being  cast  alone  into 
the  whirlpool  which  she  has  never  even  seen,  is  enough  to 
terrify  her.  One  thing  struck  Marie-Gaston  in  this  connec- 
tion. He  does  not  think  that  the  intervention  of  the  con- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  271 

fessor  can  be  of  any  use ;  the  girl,  he  says,  would  rebel  against 
the  sacrifice  if  she  thought  it  was  imposed  on  her  by  rigorous 
devotion.  Also  the  worthy  man  had  failed  in  his  authority 
on  a  point  on  which  he  had  far  more  right  to  speak  loudly 
and  decisively;  she  would  not  submit  till  I  had  released 
her  from  what  she  thought  a  strange  pledge  of  honor  to 
me. 

Marie-Gaston  is  of  opinion  that  the  intervention  and 
counsels  of  a  person  of  her  own  sex,  with  a  high  reputation 
for  virtue  and  enlightenment,  might  in  such  a  case  be  more 
efficacious,  and  he  declares  that  I  know  a  person  answering 
to  his  description,  who,  at  our  joint  entreaty,  would  consent 
to  undertake  this  delicate  negotiation.  But,  madame,  I  ask 
you  what  apparent  chance  is  there  that  this  notion  should 
be  realized?  The  lady  to  whom  Marie-Gaston  alludes  is  to 
me  an  acquaintance  of  yesterday;  and  one  would  hardly  un- 
dertake such  a  task  even  for  an  old  friend.  I  know  you  did 
me  the  honor  to  say  some  little  while  since  that  some  ac- 
quaintanceships ripen  fast.  And  Marie-Gaston  added  that 
the  lady  in  question  was  perfectly  pious,  perfectly  kind,  per- 
fectly charitable,  and  that  the  idea  of  being  the  patron  saint 
of  a  poor  deserted  creature  might  have  some  attractions  for 
her. — In  short,  madame,  on  our  return  we  propose  to  consult 
you,  and  you  will  tell  us  whether  it  may  be  possible  to  ask 
for  such  valuable  assistance. 

In  any  case,  I  beg  you  will  be  my  advocate  with  M.  de 
1'Estorade,  and  tell  him  that  I  indulge  a  hope  of  seeing  not  a 
vestige  of  the  little  cloud  that  had  come  between  us. 

By  this  time  to-morrow,  madame,  I  shall  have  met  with 
a  repulse  which  will  send  me  back,  once  for  all,  to  my  work 
as  an  artist,  or  I  shall  have  my  foot  set  on  a  new  path.  Need 
I  tell  you  that  I  am  anxious  at  the  thought?  The  effect 
of  the  unknown,  no  doubt. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  a  great  piece  of  news 
which  will  be  a  protection  to  you  against  the  ricochet  of  cer- 
tain projectiles.  I  confided  to  Mother  Marie  des  Anges — of 
whom  Marie-Gaston  had  told  you  wonders — all  my  suspicions 


272  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

as  to  some  violence  having  been  used  towards  Mile.  Lanty, 
and  she  is  sure  that  in  the  course  of  no  very  long  time  she 
can  discover  the  convent  where  Marianina  is  probably  de- 
tained. The  good  woman,  if  she  sets  her  heart  upon  it,  is 
quite  capable  of  success;  and  with  this  chance  of  rediscover- 
ing the  original,  the  copy  cannot  surely  fear  my  committing 
any  misdemeanor ! 

I  am  not  quite  satisfied  about  Marie-Gaston ;  he  seems 
to  me  to  be  in  a  state  of  feverish  excitement  as  a  consequence 
of  the  immense  importance  his  friendship  ascribes  to  my 
election.  He  is  like  an  honest  debtor  who,  having  made  up 
his  mind  to  pay  a  sacred  debt,  puts  everything  aside,  even  his 
sorrows,  till  that  is  done.  But  I  cannot  but  fear  lest,  after 
such  an  effort,  he  should  have  a  relapse;  his  grief,  though 
for  the  moment  he  suppresses  it,  has  not  really  lost  its 
poignancy.  Have  you  not  been  struck  by  the  light,  sardonic 
tone  of  his  letters,  of  which  I  have  read  portions?  This  is 
not  natural.  When  he  was  happy  he  never  had  these  bursts 
of  turbulent  gaiety.  This  cheerfulness  is  assumed  for  the 
occasion,  and  I  greatly  fear  that  when  the  electoral  breeze 
dies  away  he  will  collapse  into  prostration,  and  slip  through 
our  fingers. 

He  has  consented  to  stay  with  me  on  arriving  in  Paris, 
and  not  to  go  to  Ville-d'Avray  till  I  return,  and  in  my 
society.  Such  prudence,  though  I  begged  it  of  him — with  no 
hope  of  his  consenting — alarms  and  troubles  me.  He  is 
evidently  afraid  of  the  memories  that  await  him  there,  and 
shall  I  be  able  to  deaden  the  shock  ? — Old  Philippe,  whom  he 
would  not  take  with  him  to  Italy,  has  been  ordered  to  change 
nothing  in  the  chalet,  and  from  what  I  know  of  him,  he  is 
too  well  drilled  a  servant  to  fail  in  carrying  out  the  order  to 
the  letter;  thus  the  unhappy  fellow,  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
objects  that  will  speak  of  the  past,  will  find  himself  back  on 
the  day  after  his  wife's  death.  And  there  is  a  still  more 
alarming  fact !  He  has  never  once  mentioned  her  to  me, 
has  never  even  allowed  me  to  approach  the  subject.  We 


273 

can  but  hope  that  this  is  but  a  crisis  to  be  got  over,  and  that 
by  uniting  to  do  our  best  we  may  succeed  in  calming  him. 

Adieu,  then,  till  we  meet,  dear  madame. — Conquering 
or  conquered,  I  am  always  your  most  devoted  and  respectful 
servant. 

Marie  Gaston.to  the  Comtesse  de  I'Estorade. 

ARCIS-BBK-AUBE,  May  13, 1839. 

We  have  had  a  narrow  escape,  madame,  while  sleeping.  And 
those  blundering  rioters,  of  whose  extraordinary  outbreak 
we  have  news  to-day  by  telegraph,  for  a  moment  imperiled 
our  success.  No  sooner  was  the  news  of  the  rising  in  Paris 
yesterday  known,  through  the  bills  posted  by  order  of  the 
Sous-prefet,  than  it  was  cleverly  turned  to  account  by  the 
Ministerial  party. 

"Elect  a  democrat  if  you  will !"  they  cried  on  all  sides, 
"that  his  speeches  may  make  the  cartridges  for  insurgent 
muskets !" 

This  argument  threw  our  phalanx  into  disorder  and  doubt. 
Fortunately,  as  you  may  remember,  a  question — not  ap- 
parently so  directly  to  the  point — had  been  put  to  Sallenauve 
at  the  preliminary  meeting,  and  there  was  something  pro- 
phetic in  his  reply. 

Jacques  Bricheteau  had  the  happy  thought  of  getting  a 
little  handbill  printed  and  widely  distributed  forthwith: 

"A    EIOT    WITH    HARD    FIGHTING    TOOK    PLACE    YESTERDAY    IN 

PARIS. 

"Questioned  as  to  such  criminal  and  desperate  methods  of 
opposition,  one  of  our  candidates,  M.  de  Sallenauve,  at  the  very 
hour  when  those  shats  were  being  fired,  was  using  these  words" 
— followed  by  some  of  Sallenauve's  speech,  which  I  reported 
to  you.  Then  came,  in  large  letters: 

"THE  RIOT  WAS  SUPPRESSED  ;  WHO  WILL  BENEFIT 
BY  IT?" 


274  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

This  little  bill  did  wonders,  and  balked  M.  de  Trailles* 
supreme  efforts,  though,  throwing  aside  his  incognito,  he 
spent  the  day  speechifying  in  white  gloves  in  the  market- 
place and  at  the  door  of  the  polling-room. 

This  evening  the  result  is  known: — Number  of  voters, 
201. 

Beauvisage,       ........         2 

Simon  Giguet 29 

Sallenauve, 170 

Consequently  M.  Charles  de  Sallenauve  is  elected 

MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS. 


PART  III. 

THE  COMTE  DE  SALLENAUVE 

ON  the  evening  of  the  day  following  the  election  that  had 
ended  so  disastrously  for  his  vanity,  Maxime  de  Trailles  re- 
turned to  Paris. 

On  seeing  him  make  a  hasty  toilet  and  order  his  carriage 
as  soon  as  he  reached  home,  it  might  have  been  supposed  that 
he  was  going  to  call  on  the  Comte  de  Rastignac,  Minister 
of  Public  Works,  to  give  an  account  of  his  mission  and  ex- 
plain its  failure;  but  a  more  pressing  interest  seemed  to 
claim  his  attention. 

"To  Colonel  Franchessini's,"  said  he  to  the  coachman. 

When  he  reached  the  gate  of  one  of  the  prettiest  houses 
in  the  Breda  quarter,  the  concierge,  to  whom  he  nodded,  gave 
M.  de  Trailles  the  significant  glance  which  conveyed  that 
"Monsieur  was  within."  And  at  the  same  moment  the  por- 
ter's bell  announced  his  arrival  to  the  man-servant  who 
opened  the  hall  door. 

"Is  the  Colonel  visible?"  said  he. 

"He  has  just  gone  in  to  speak  to  madame.  Shall  I  tell 
him  you  are  here,  Monsieur  le  Comte?" 

"No,  you  need  not  do  that.    I  will  wait  in  his  study." 

And,  without  requiring  the  man  to  lead  the  way,  he  went 
on,  as  one  familiar  with  the  house,  into  a  large  room  with 
two  windows  opening  on  a  level  with  the  garden.  This  study, 
like  the  Bologna  lute  included  in  the  Avare's  famous  in- 
ventory, was  "fitted  with  all  its  strings,  or  nearly  all";  in 
other  words,  all  the  articles  of  furniture  which  justified  its 
designation,  such  as  a  writing-table,  book-cases,  maps,  and 
globes,  wore  there,  supplemented  by  other  and  very  hand- 
some furniture;  but  the  Colonel,  an  ardent  sportsman,  and 
one  of  the  most  energetic  members  of  the  Jockey  Club,  had 

(275) 


276  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

by  degrees  allowed  this  sanctuary  of  learning  and  science 
to  be  invaded  by  the  appurtenances  of  the  smoking-room, 
the  fencing-school,  and  the  harness-room.  Pipes  and  weapons 
of  every  form,  from  every  land,  including  the  Wild  Indian's 
club,  saddles,  hunting-crops,  bits  and  stirrups  of  every  pat- 
tern, fencing-gloves,  and  boxing-gloves,  lay  in  strange  and 
disorderly  confusion.  However,  by  thus  surrounding  him- 
self with  the  accessories  of  his  favorite  occupations  and 
studies,  the  Colonel  showed  that  he  had  the  courage  of  his 
opinions.  In  fact,  in  his  opinion  no  reading  was  endurable 
for  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  unless  indeed  it  were 
the  Stud-journal. 

It  must  be  supposed,  however,  that  politics  had  made  their 
way  into  his  life,  devoted  as  it  was  to  the  worship  of  mus- 
cular development  and  equine  science,  for  Maxime  found 
strewn  on  the  floor  most  of  the  morning's  papers,  flung  aside 
with  contempt  when  the  Colonel  had  looked  them  through. 
From  among  the  heap  M.  de  Trailles  picked  up  the  National, 
and  his  eye  at  once  fell  on  these  lines,  forming  a  short  para- 
graph on  the  front  page: 

"Our  side  has  secured  a  great  success  in  the  district  of 
Arcis-sur-Aube.  In  spite  of  the  efforts  of  local  functionaries, 
supported  by  those  of  a  special  agent  sent  by  the  Government 
to  this  imperiled  outpost,  the  Committee  is  almost  entirely 
composed  of  the  adherents  of  the  most  advanced  Left.  We 
may  therefore  quite  confidently  predict  the  election  to-mor- 
row of  M.  Dorlange,  one  of  our  most  distinguished  sculptors, 
a  man  whom  we  have  warmly  recommended  to  the  suffrages 
of  our  readers.  They  will  not  be  surprised  at  seeing  him 
returned,  not  under  the  name  of  Dorlange,  but  as  Monsieur 
Charles  de  Sallenauve. 

"By  an  act  of  recognition,  signed  and  witnessed  on  May 
2nd,  at  the  office  of  Maitre  Achille  Pigoult,  notary  at  Arcis, 
M.  Dorlange  is  authorized  to  take  and  use  the  name  of  one 
of  the  best  families  in  Champagne,  to  which  he  did  not  till 
then  know  that  he  belonged.  But  Dorlange  or  Sallenauve, 


THE    MEMBER    F.OR    ARCIS  277 

the  new  member  is  one  of  Us,  a  fact  of  which  the  Government 
will  ere  long  be  made  aware  in  the  Chamber.  As  we  read  the 
eloquent  utterances  of  this  candidate  when  addressing  the 
preliminary  meeting,  without  flattery  and  quite  apart  from 
party  feeling,  we  may  predict  his  brilliant  success  on  the 
parliamentary  platform." 

Maxime  tossed  the  sheet  aside  with  petulant  annoyance 
and  picked  up  another.  This  was  an  organ  of  the  Legitimist 
party.  In  it  he  read  under  the  heading  of  Elections: 

"The  staff  of  the  National  Guard  and  the  Jockey  Club, 
who  had  several  members  in  the  last  Chamber  of  Deputies, 
have  just  sent  one  of  their  most  brilliant  notables  to  the 
newly-elected  Parliament,  of  which  the  first  session  is  about 
to  open.  Colonel  Franchessini,  so  well  known  for  his  zealous 
prosecution  of  National  Guards  who  shirk  service,  was  elected 
almost  unanimously  for  one  of  the  rotten  boroughs  of  the 
Civil  List.  It  is  supposed  that  he  will  take  his  seat  with  the 
phalanx  of  the  Aides-de-Camp,  and  that  in  the  Chamber,  as 
in  the  office  of  the  Staff,  he  will  be  a  firm  and  ardent  sup- 
porter of  the  policy  of  the  Status  quo." 

As  Maxime  got  to  the  end  of  this  paragraph,  the  Colonel 
came  in. 

Colonel  Franchessini,  for  a  short  time  in  the  Imperial 
Army,  had,  under  the  Eestoration,  figured  as  a  dashing  officer ; 
but  in  consequence  of  some  little  clouds  that  had  tarnished 
the  perfect  brightness  of  his  honor,  he  had  been  compelled 
to  resign  his  commission,  so  that  in  1830  he  was  quite  free  to" 
devote  himself  with  passionate  ardor  to  the  "dynasty  of 
July."  He  had  not,  however,  re-entered  the  service,  because, 
not  long  after  his  little  misadventure,  he  had  found  great 
consolation  from  an  immensely  rich  Englishwoman  who  had 
allowed  herself  to  be  captivated  by  his  handsome  face  and 
figure,  at  that  time  worthy  of  Antinous,  and  had  annexed  him 
as  her  husband.  He  had  ultimately  resumed  his  epaulettes  as 


278 

a  member  of  the  Staff  of  the  Citizen  Militia.  He  had  revealed 
himself  in  that  position  as  the  most  turbulent  and  conten- 
tious of  swashbucklers,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  extensive  con- 
nections secured  to  him  by  his  wealth  and  this  influential  posi- 
tion, he  had  now  pushed  his  way — the  news  was  correct — into 
a  seat  in  the  Chamber. 

Colonel  Franchessini,  like  his  friend  Maxime  de  Trailles 
nearly  fifty  years  of  age,  had  an  air  of  second  youth,  for  which 
his  lightly-knit  frame  and  agile  military  figure  promised 
long  duration.  Though  he  had  finally  made  up  his  mind  to 
iron-gray  hair,  concealing  the  silver  sheen  by  keeping  it  cut 
very  short,  he  was  less  resigned  to  a  white  moustache ;  wearing 
it  turned  up  with  a  jaunty  and  juvenile  curl,  he  did  his  best 
to  preserve  its  original  hue  by  the  use  of  Pomade  Hongroise. 
But  those  who  try  to  prove  too  much  prove  nothing;  and  in 
the  application  of  this  black  dye,  art  exaggerating  nature  was 
betrayed  by  an  intensity  and  equality  of  hue  too  perfect  to 
be  thought  genuine.  This  gave  his  strongly  marked  counte- 
nance, with  its  dark  complexion  and  conspicuous  stamp  of 
the  Italian  origin  indicated  by  his  name,  a  strangely  hard- 
set  expression,  which  was  far  from  being  corrected  or  softened 
by  angular  features,  piercing  eyes,  and  a  large  nose  like  the 
beak  of  a  bird  of  prey. 

"Well,  Maxime,"  said  he,  holding  out  a  hand  to  his  ex- 
pectant visitor,  "where  the  devil  do  you  come  from  ?  We  have 
not  seen  a  sign  of  you  at  the  club  this  fortnight  past." 

"Where  have  I  come  from  ?"  repeated  Monsieur  de  Trailles. 
"I  will  tell  you. — But  first  let  me  congratulate  you." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel  airily,  "they  took  it  into  their  heads 
to  elect  me.  On  my  word,  I  am  very  innocent  of  it  all ;  if  no 
one  had  worked  any  harder  for  it  than  I " 

"My  dear  fellow,  you  are  a  man  of  gold  for  any  district, 
and  if  only  the  voters  I  have  had  to  deal  with  had  been  equally 
intelligent " 

"What,  have  you  been  standing  for  a  place  ?  But  from  the 
state — the  somewhat  entangled  state — of  your  finances  I  did 
not  think  you  were  in  a  position " 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  279 

"35o;  and  I  was  not  working  on  my  own  account.  Ras- 
tignac  was  worried  about  the  voting  in  Arcis-sur-Aube,  and 
asked  me  to  spend  a  few  days  there." 

"Arcis-sur-Aube !  But,  my  dear  fellow,  if  I  remember 
rightly  some  article  I  was  reading  this  morning  in  one  of 
those  rags,  they  are  making  a  shocking  bad  choice — some 
plaster-cast  maker,  an  image-cutter,  whom  they  propose  to 
send  up  to  us  ?" 

"Just  so,  and  it  is  about  that  rascally  business  that  I  came 
to  consult  you.  I  have  not  been  two  hours  in  Paris,  and  I 
shall  see  Rastignac  only  as  I  leave  this." 

"He  is  getting  on  famously,  that  little  Minister !"  said  the 
Colonel,  interrupting  the  skilful  modulation  through  which 
Maxime  by  every  word  had  quietly  tended  to  the  object  of 
his  visit.  "He  is  very  much  liked  at  the  Chateau. — Do  you 
know  that  little  Nucingen  girl  he  married?" 

"Yes,  I  often  see  Rastignac;  he  is  a  very  old  friend  of 
mine." 

"She  is  a  pretty  little  thing,"  the  Colonel  went  on.  "Very 
pretty;  and  when  the  first  year  of  matrimony  is  dead  and 
buried,  I  fancy  that  a  mild  charge  in  that  quarter  might  be 
ventured  on  with  some  hope  of  success." 

"Come,  come !"  said  Maxime,  "a  man  of  position  like  you, 
a  legislator !  Why,  after  merely  stirring  the  electoral  pot 
for  somebody  else,  I  have  come  back  quite  a  settled  and  re- 
formed character." 

"Then  you  went  to  Arcis-sur-Aube  to  hinder  the  election 
of  this  hewer  of  stone  ?" 

"Not  at  all;  I  went  there  to  scotch  the  wheels  of  a  Left 
Centre  candidate." 

"Peugh !  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  not  as  bad  as  the  Left 
out  and  out. — But  take  a  cigar ;  I  have  some  good  ones  there — 
the  same  as  the  Princes  smoke." 

Maxime  would  have  gained  nothing  by  refusing,  for  the 
Colonel  had  already  risen  to  ring  for  his  valet,  to  whom  he 
merely  said:  "Lights." 

Their  cigars  fairly  started,  M.  de  Trailles  anticipated  an- 


280  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

other  interruption  by  declaring,  before  he  was  asked,  that  he 
had  never  smoked  anything  so  fine.  The  Colonel,  lounging 
comfortably  in  his  chair,  and,  so  to  say,  ballasted  by  the  occu- 
pation he  had  secured,  seemed  likely  to  give  less  volatile  at- 
tention to  the  conversation.  So  M.  de  Trailles  resumed: 

"At  first  everything  was  going  splendidly.  To  oust  the 
candidate  who  had  scared  the  Ministry — a  lawyer,  the  very 
worst  kind  of  vermin — I  disinterred  a  retired  hosier,  the 
mayor  of  the  town,  idiot  enough  for  anything,  whom  I  per- 
suaded to  come  forward.  This  worthy  was  convinced  that  he, 
like  his  opponent,  belonged  to  the  Opposition.  That  is  the 
prevalent  opinion  in  the  whole  district  at  the  present  time, 
so  that  the  election,  by  my  judicious  manoeuvring,,  was  as 
good  as  won.  And  our  man  once  safe  in  Paris,  the  great 
wizard  at  the  Tuileries  would  have  spoken  three  words  to 
him,  and  this  rabid  antagonist,  turned  inside  out  like  a  stock- 
ing of  his  own  making,  would  have  been  anything  we  wished." 

"Well  played,"  said  the  Colonel;  "I  see  the  hand  of  my 
Maxime  in  it  all." 

"You  will  see  it  yet  plainer  when  he  tells  you  that  in  this 
little  arrangement,  without  taking  toll  from  his  employers, 
he  expected  to  turn  an  honest  penny.  To  engraft  on  that 
dull  stock  some  sort  of  parliamentary  ambition,  I  had  to 
begin  by  making  myself  agreeable  to  his  wife,  a  not  unpal- 
atable country  matron,  though  a  little  past  the  prime " 

"Yes,  yes;  very  good "  said  Franchessini.  "The  hus- 
band a  deputy — satisfied ?" 

"You  are  not  near  it,  my  dear  fellow.  There  is  a  daughter 
m  the  house,  an  only  child,  very  much  spoilt,  nineteen,  nice- 
looking,  and  with  something  like  a  million  francs  of  her 
own." 

"But,  my  dear  Maxime,  I  passed  by  your  tailor's  yesterday 
and  your  coachmaker's,  and  I  saw  no  illuminations." 

"They  would,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  have  been  premature. — 
But  so  matters  stood:  the  two  ladies  crazy  to  make  a  move 
to  Paris;  full  of  overflowing  gratitude  to  the  man  who  could 
get  them  there  through  the  door  of  the  Palais  Bourbon;  the 


281 

girl  possessed  with  the  idea  of  being  a  Countess;  the  mother 
transported  at  the  notion  of  holding  a  political  drawing- 
room — you  see  all  the  obvious  openings  that  the  situ- 
ation afforded,  and  you  know  me  well  enough  to  believe  that 
I  was  not  behindhand  to  avail  myself  of  such  possibilities 
when  once  I  had  discerned  them." 

"I  am  quite  easy  on  that  score,"  said  the  Colonel,  as  he 
opened  a  window  to  let  out  some  of  the  cigar  smoke  that  by 
this  time  was  filling  the  room. 

"So  I  was  fully  prepared,"  Maxime  went  on,  "to  swallow 
the  damsel  and  the  fortune  as  soon  as  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  leap  plump  into  this  mesalliance;  when,  falling  from 
the  clouds,  or  to  be  accurate,  shot  up  from  underground,  the 
gentleman  with  two  names,  of  whom  you  read  in  the  National 
this  morning,  suddenly  came  on  the  scene." 

"By  the  way,"  said  the  Colonel,  "what  may  this  act  of 
recognition  be  which  enables  a  man  to  take  a  name  he  had 
never  heard  of  only  a  day  since?" 

"The  recognition  of  a  natural  son  in  the  presence  of  a 
notary. — It  is  perfectly  legal." 

"Then  our  gentleman  is  of  the  interesting  tribe  of  the 
nameless?  Yes,  yes,  those  rascals  often  have  great  luck.  I 
am  not  at  all  surprised  that  this  one  should  have  cut  the 
ground  from  under  your  feet." 

"If  we  were  living  in  the  middle  ages,"  said  Maxime,  "I 
should  account  for  the  unhorsing  of  my  man  and  the  success 
of  this  fellow  by  magic  and  witchcraft;  for  he  will,  I  fear, 
be  your  colleague.  How  can  you  account  for  the  fact  that  an 
old  tricoteuse,  formerly  a  friend  of  Danton's,  and  now  the 
Mother  Superior  of  an  Ursuline  convent,  with  the  help  of 
a  nephew,  an  obscure  Paris  organist  whom  she  brought  out 
as  the  masculine  figure-head  of  her  scheme,  should  have 
hoodwinked  a  whole  constituency  to  such  a  point  that  this 
stranger  actually  polled  an  imposing  majority?" 

''Well,  but  some  one  knew  him,  I  suppose?" 

"Not  a  soul,  unless  it  were  this  old  hypocrite.  Till  the 
moment  of  his  arrival  he  had  no  fortune,  no  connections — not 


282  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

even  a  father !  While  he  was  taking  his  boots  off  he  was  made 
— Heaven  knows  how — the  proprietor  of  a  fine  estate.  Then, 
in  quite  the  same  vein,  a  gentleman  supposed  to  be  a  native 
of  the  place,  from  which  he  had  absented  himself  for  many 
years,  presented  himself  with  this  ingenious  schemer  in  a 
notary's  office,  acknowledged  him  post-haste  as  his  son, 
and  vanished  again  in  the  course  of  the  night,  no  one  knowing 
by  which  road  he  went.  This  trick  having  come  off  all  right, 
the  Ursuline  and  her  ally  launched  their  nominee;  republi- 
cans, legitimists,  and  conservatives,  the  clergy,  the  nobility, 
the  middle  classes — one  and  all,  as  if  bound  by  a  spell  cast 
over  the  whole  land,  came  round  to  this  favorite  of  the  old 
nun-witch;  and,  but  for  the  sacred  battalion  of  officials  who, 
under  my  eye,  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter,  and  did  not 
break  up,  there  was  nothing  to  hinder  his  being  returned 
unanimously,  as  you  were." 

"And  so,  my  poor  friend,  good-bye  to  the  fortune?" 

"Well,  not  so  bad  as  that.  But  everything  is  put  off. — 
The  father  complains  that  the  blissful  peace  of  his  existence 
is  broken,  that  he  has  been  made  quite  ridiculous — when 
the  poor  man  is  so  utterly  ridiculous  to  begin  with.  The 
daughter  would  still  like  to  be  a  Countess,  but  the 
mother  cannot  make  up  her  mind  to  see  her  political 
drawing-room  carried  down  stream;  God  knows  to  what 
lengths  I  may  have  to  go  in  consolation !  Then,  I  myself  am 
worried  by  the  need  for  coming  to  an  early  solution  of  the 
problem.  There  I  was — there  was  the  girl — I  should  have 
got  married;  I  should  have  taken  a  year  to  settle  my  affairs, 
and  then  by  next  session,  I  should  have  made  my  respectable 
father-in-law  resign,  and  have  stepped  into  his  seat  in  the 
Chamber. — You  see  what  a  horizon  lay  before  me." 

"But,  my  dear  fellow,  apart  from  the  political  horizon, 
that  million  must  not  be  allowed  to  slip." 

"Oh  well,  so  far  as  that  goes,  I  am  easy;  it  is  only  post- 
poned. My  good  people  are  coming  to  Paris.  After  the 
repulse  they  have  sustained,  Arcis  is  no  longer  a  possible 
home  for  them.  Beauvisage  particularly — I  apologize  for  the 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  283 

name,  but  it  is  that  of  my  fair  one's  family — Beauvisage,  like 
Coriolanus,  is  ready  to  put  the  ungrateful  province  to  fire 
and  sword. — And  indeed  the  hapless  exiles  will  have  a  place 
here  to  lay  their  heads,  for  they  are  the  owners,  if  you  please, 
of  the  Hotel  Beauseant." 

"Owners  of  the  Hotel  Beauseant!"  cried  the  Colonel  in 
amazement. 

"Yes  indeed ;  and,  after  all — Beauseant — Beauvisage ;  only 
the  end  of  the  name  needs  a  change. — My  dear  fellow,  you 
have  no  idea  of  what  these  country  fortunes  mount  up  to, 
accumulated  sou  by  sou,  especially  when  the  omnipotence  of 
thrift  is  supported  by  the  incessant  suction  of  the  leech  we 
call  trade !  We  must  make  the  best  of  it ;  the  middle  classes 
are  rising  steadily  like  a  tide,  and  it  is  really  very  kind  of 
them  to  buy  our  houses  and  lands  instead  of  cutting  our  heads 
off,  as  they  did  in  '93  to  get  them  for  nothing." 

"But  you,  my  dear  Maxime,  have  reduced  your  houses  and 
lands  to  the  simplest  expression." 

"No — since,  as  you  perceive,  I  am  thinking  of  reinstating 
myself." 

"The  Hotel  Beauseant !"  said  the  Colonel,  calling  up  a 
long-buried  reminiscence.  "I  have  never  set  foot  there  since 
the  last  ball  given  by  the  Viscountess  who  then  owned  it,  on 
the  very  evening  when,  in  love  and  despair,  she  made  up  her 
mind  to  go  and  bury  herself  in  Normandy  on  one  .of  her 
estates.  I  was  there  with  poor  Lady  Brandon,  and  the  effect 
was  startling;  but  I  remember  the  splendor  of  the  rooms;  it 
was  quite  a  royal-  residence." 

"Happily,  everything  has  been  completely  spoilt.  It  was 
let  for  years  to  some  English  people,  and  now  extensive  re- 
pairs are  needed.  This  is  a  capital  bond  between  me  and 
my  country  friends,  for  without  me  they  have  no  idea  how 
to  set  to  work.  It  is  understood  that  I  am  to  be  director 
general  of  the  works ;  but  I  have  promised  my  future  mother- 
in-law  another  thing,  and  I  need  your  assistance,  my  dear 
fellow,  to  enable  me  to  perform  it." 

"You  do  not  want  a  license  for  her  to  sell  tobacco  and 
stamps  ?" 


284  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"No,  nothing  so  difficult  as  that. — These  confounded  wo- 
men, when  they  are  possessed  by  a  spirit  of  hatred  or  revenge, 
have  really  wonderful  instinct ;  and  Madame  Beauvisage,  who 
roars  like  a  lioness  at  the  mere  name  of  Dorlange,  has  taken 
it  into  her  head  that  there  must  be  some  dirty  intrigue 
wriggling  at  the  bottom  of  his  incomprehensible  success.  It 
is  quite  certain  that  the  apparition  and  disappearance  of  this 
'American'  father  give  grounds  for  very  odd  surmises ;  and  it 
is  quite  possible  that  if  we  pressed  the  button,  the  organist, 
who  is  said  to  have  taken  entire  charge  of  this  interesting 
bastard's  education,  and  to  know  the  secret  of  his  parentage, 
might  afford  the  most  unexpected  revelations. 

"And  thinking  of  this,  I  remembered  a  man  over  whom 
you  have,  I  fancy,  considerable  influence,  and  who  in  this 
'Dorlange  hunt'  may  be  of  great  use  to  us.  You  recollect 
the  robbery  of  Jenny  Cadine's  jewels,  which  she  lamented 
so  bitterly  one  evening  when  supping  with  you  at  Very's? 
You  called  to  the  waiter  for  paper  and  ink ;  and  in  obedience 
to  a  line  from  you,  sent  at  three  in  the  morning  to  M.  de 
Saint-Esteve,  the  police  took  up  the  matter  so  effectively 
that  the  thieves  were  caught  and  the  jewels  restored  by  the 
following  evening." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel,  "I  remember  very  well.  My  au- 
dacity was  lucky.  But  I  may  tell  you  frankly,  that  with 
more  time  for  thought,  I  should  not  have  dealt  so  cavalierly 
with  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve.  He  is  a  man  to  be  approached 
with  respect." 

"Bless  me!  Why,  is  not  he  a  retired  criminal  who  has 
served  his  time  on  the  hulks,  and  whose  release  you  helped  to 
obtain — who  must  have  for  you  some  such  veneration  as 
Fieschi  showed  to  one  of  his  protectors?" 

"Very  true.  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve,  like  his  predecessor 
Bibi-Lupin,  has  had  his  troubles.  But  he  is  now  at  the  head 
of  the  criminal  police,  with  very  important  functions  that  he 
fulfils  with  remarkable  address.  If  this  were  a  matter 
strictly  within  his  department,  I  should  not  hesitate  to  give 
you  an  introduction ;  but  the  affair  of  which  you  speak  is  a 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  285 

delicate  business,  and  first  and  foremost  I  must  feel  my  way 
to  ascertain  whether  he  will  even  discuss  it  with  you." 

"Oh,  I  fancied  he  was  entirely  at  your  commands.  Say  no 
more  about  it  if  there  is  any  difficulty." 

"The  chief  difficulty  is  that  I  never  see  him.  I  cannot,  of 
course,  write  to  him  about  such  a  thing ;  I  lack  opportunity — 
the  chance  of  a  meeting. — But  why  not  apply  to  Rastignac, 
who  would  simply  order  him  to  take  steps?" 

"Rastignac,  as  you  may  understand,  will  not  give  me  a  very 
good  reception.  I  had  promised  to  succeed,  and  I  have  come 
back  a  failure;  he  will  regard  this  side  issue  as  one  of  those 
empty  dreams  a  man  clutches  at  to  conceal  a  defeat.  And,  in 
any  case,  I  should  be  glad  to  owe  such  a  service  solely  to  your 
tried  friendship." 

"It  will  not  prove  lacking,"  said  the  Colonel,  rising.  "I 
will  do  my  best  for  you,  only  it  will  take  time." 

Maxime  had  paid  a  long  visit,  and  took  the  hint  to  cut  it 
short;  he  took  leave  with  a  shade  of  coolness,  which  did  not 
particularly  disturb  the  Colonel. 

As  soon  as  Monsieur  de  Trailles  was  gone,  Franchessini 
took  the  knave  of  spades  out  of  a  pack  of  cards,  and  cut  the 
figure  out  from  the  background.  Placed  between  two  thick 
folds  of  letter-paper,  he  tucked  it  into  an  envelope,  which  he 
addressed  in  a  feigned  hand  to  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve, 
Petite  Rue  Sainte-Anne,  Pres  du  Quai  des  Orfevres. 

This  done,  he  rang,  countermanded  his  carriage,  which  he 
had  ordered  before  Maxime's  visit,  and  setting  out  on  foot, 
posted  the  strange  missive  with  his  own  hand  in  the  first 
letter-box  he  came  to.  He  took  particular  care  to  see  that  it 
was  securely  sealed. 

At  the  close  of  the  elections,  which  were  now  over,  the 
Government,  against  all  expectations,  still  had  a  majority  in 
the  Chamber,  but  a  problematical  and  provisional  majority, 
promising  but  a  struggling  and  sickly  existence  to  the  Min- 
istry in  power.  Still,  it  had  won  the  numerical  success 
which  is  held  to  be  satisfactory  by  men  who  wish  to  remain  in 


286  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

office  at  any  price.  Every  voice  in  the  Ministerial  camp  was 
raised  in  a  Te  Deum,  which  as  often  serves  to  celebrate  a 
doubtful  defeat  as  an  undoubted  victory. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  when  Colonel  Franchessini  and 
Maxime  de  Trailles  had  held  the  conversation  just  recorded, 
the  general  result  of  the  elections  was  known ;  the  ministers 
living  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine  who  held  receptions  that 
day  saw  their  rooms  mobbed ;  and  at  the  house  of  the  Minister 
of  Public  Works,  the  Comte  de  Rastignac,  the  throng  was 
immense.  Though  not  conspicuous  as  an  orator,  this  diminu- 
tive statesman,  by  his  dexterity,  by  the  elegance  of  his  man- 
ners, by  his  inexhaustible  fund  of  resource,  and,  above  all, 
by  his  complete  devotion  to  personal  policy,  was  sure  to  rise 
to  a  post  of  the  first  importance  in  a  Cabinet  which  lived 
only  by  expedients. 

Madame  de  FEstorade,  who  was  too  much  taken  up  by  her 
children  to  be  very  punctual  in  her  social  duties,  had  long 
owed  Madame  de  Rastignac  a  visit  in  return  for  that  paid  by 
the  Minister's  wife  on  the  evening  when  the  sculptor,  now 
promoted  to  be  deputy,  load  dined  there  after  the  famous 
occasion  of  the  statuette,  as  related  by  her  to  Madame  Octave 
de  Camps.  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  a  zealous  Conservative, 
as  we  know,  had  insisted  that,  on  a  day  when  politics  and 
politeness  were  both  on  the  same  side,  his  wife  should  dis- 
charge this  debt  already  of  long  standing.  Madame  de  1'Es- 
torade  had  gone  early  to  have  done  with  the  task  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  so  found  herself  at  the  upper  end  of  the  group 
of  seated  ladies;  while  the  men  stood  about,  talking.  Her 
chair  was  next  to  Madame  de  Rastignac,  who  sat  nearest  to 
the  fire.  At  official  receptions  this  is  usual,  a  sort  of  guide 
to  the  newcomers  who  know  where  to  go  at  once  to  make  their 
bow  to  the  lady  of  the  house. 

But  Madame  de  1'Estorade's  hopes  of  curtailing  her  visit 
had  not  taken  due  account  of  the  fascinations  of  conversation 
in  which,  on  such  an  occasion,  her  husband  was  certain  to  be 
involved. 

Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  though  no  great  orator,  was  influ^ 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  28T 

ential  in  the  Upper  Chamber,  and  regarded  as  a  man  of  great 
foresight  and  accurate  judgment ;  and  at  every  step  he  took  as 
he  moved  round  the  rooms,  he  was  stopped  either  by  some 
political  bigwig  or  by  some  magnate  of  finance,  of  diplomacy, 
or  merely  of  the  business  world,  and  eagerly  invited  to  give 
his  opinion  on  the  prospects  of  the  opening  session.  To 
every  question,  the  President  of  the  Court  of  Exchequer  an- 
p.wered  at  more  or  less  length,  and  now  and  again  he  had  the 
keen  satisfaction  of  finding  himself  the  centre  of  a  group 
who  anxiously  took  note  of  his  views. 

This  success  made  him  quite  indifferent  to  his  wife's  agi- 
tated signals;  and  she,  keeping  her  eye  on  his  various  evolu- 
tions, telegraphed  to  him  whenever  he  came  within  her  ken 
that  she  wished  to  end  the  sitting.  The  little  heed  he  paid 
to  her  impatience  was  in  itself  a  fact  to  be  noted  in  the  record 
of  the  usually  clear  and  serene  sky  that  bent  over  the  couple. 
Ten  years  even  after  their  marriage,  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade, 
who  had  been  accepted  by  his  wife  with  anything  rather  than 
enthusiasm,  would  have  been  horrified  at  the  idea  of  such 
obviously  slack  obedience ;  but  three  .lustres  had  now  elapsed 
since  he  had  won  the  hand  of  the  beautiful  Eenee  de  Man- 
combe  ;  and  though  she  had  not  yet  lost  any  of  her  magnificent 
beauty,  he,  on  the  contrary,  had  grown  a  good  deal  older. 
The  twenty  years  that  lay  between  his  age  of  fifty-two  and 
hers  of  thirty-two  was  all  the  more  marked  now  because,  even 
at  seven-and-thirty,  when  he  had  married  and  settled,  his  hair 
was  already  gray  and  his  health  wrecked.  A  malady  of  the 
liver  from  which  he  then  suffered,  after  lying  dormant  for 
some  years,  had  of  late  seemed  to  assume  an  active  form ;  and 
while  this  morbid  condition,  a  common  one  among  statesmen 
and  ambitious  workers,  produced  a  stronger  taste  in  him  for 
political  interests,  it  no  doubt  made  his  mouth  harder,  so  to 
speak,  to  the  matrimonial  bit. 

It  is,  however,  quite  possible  that  the  absurd  fit  of  jealousy 
to  which  we  once  saw  him  yield  was  caused  solely  by  the 
obscure  disorder  which  had  already  tinged  his  worn  face  with 
the  yellowish  hue  of  pronounced  liver-disease. 


288  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  talked  so  long  and  so  well,  that  at 
last  the  drawing-room  was  almost  empty,  and  only  a  small 
circle  was  left  of  intimate  friends,  gathered  round  his  wife 
and  Madame  de  Eastignac.  The  Minister  himself,  as  he  re- 
turned from  seeing  off  the  last  of  his  guests  to  whose  im- 
portance such  an  attention  was  due,  rescued  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade  from  the  clutches — as  he  thought  somewhat  peril- 
ous— of  a  Wurtemberg  Baron,  the  mysterious  agent  of  some 
Northern  Power,  who,  helped  by  his  Orders  and  his  gibberish, 
had  the  knack  of  acquiring  rather  more  information  about 
any  given  matter  than  his  interlocutor  intended  to  give  him. 

Hooking  his  arm  confidentially  through  that  of  the  guile- 
less Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  who  was  lending  a  gullible  ear  to 
the  trans- Ehenish  rhodomontade  in  which  the  wily  Teuton 
carefully  wrapped  up  the  curiosity  he  dared  not  frankly  avow : 

"That  man,  you  know,  is  a  mere  nobody,"  said  Eastignac, 
as  the  foreigner  made  him  a  humbly  obsequious  bow. 

"He  does  not  talk  badly,"  replied  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 
"If  it  were  not  for  his  villainous  accent " 

"That,  on  the  contrary,  is  his  strong  point,  as  it  is  Nu- 
cingen's,  my  father-in-law.  With  their  way  of  mutilating 
the  French  language,  and  always  seeming  to  be  in  the  clouds, 
these  Germans  have  the  cleverest  way  of  worming  out  a 
secret " 

As  they  joined  the  group  about  Madame  de  Eastignac — 

"Madame,"  said  the  Minister  to  the  Countess,  "I  have 
brought  you  back  your  husband,  having  caught  him  red- 
handed  in  'criminal  conversation'  with  a  man  from  the  Zoll- 
verein  who  would  probably  not  have  released  him  this  night." 

"I  was  about  to  ask  Madame  de  Eastignac  if  she  could 
give  me  a  bed,  to  set  her  free  at  any  rate,  for  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade's  interminable  conversations  have  hindered  me 
from  leaving  her  at  liberty." 

Madame  de  Eastignac  protested  as  to  the  pleasure  it  had 
been  to  enjoy  Madame  de  1'Estorade's  society  as  long  as  possi- 
ble, only  regretting  the  necessity  for  frequent  interruptions 
to  respond  to  the  civilities  of  the  extraordinary  looking  newly- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  289 

elected  deputies  who  had  come  in  an  endless  stream  to  make 
their  bow  to  her. 

"Oh,  my  dear !"  cried  Rastignac.  "The  session  will  open 
immediately ;  pray  give  yourself  no  scornful  airs  to  the  elect 
representatives  of  the  nation! — Besides,  you  will  get  into 
Madame  de  1'Estorade's  black  books.  One  of  our  newly-made 
sovereigns  is,  I  am  told,  high  in  her  good  graces." 

"In  mine?"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade  with  a  look  of 
surprise,  and  she  colored  a  little.  Her  complexion,  still  brill- 
iantly clear,  lent  itself  readily  to  this  expression  of  emotion. 

'•'To  be  sure !  quite  true,"  said  Madame  de  Rastignac.  "I 
had  quite  forgotten  that  artist  who,  on  the  last  occasion  of 
my  seeing  you  at  your  own  house,  was  cutting  out  such  charm- 
ing silhouettes  for  your  children,  in  a  corner.  I  must  own 
that  I  was  then  far  from  supposing  that  he  would  become  one 
of  our  masters." 

"But  even  then  he  was  talked  of  as  a  candidate,"  replied 
Madame  de  1'Estorade;  "though,  to  be  sure,  it  was  not  taken 
very  seriously." 

"Quite  seriously  by  me,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  eager 
to  add  a  stripe  to  his  reputation  as  a  prophet.  "From  the  very 
first  talk  on  political  matters  that  I  had  with  our  candidate, 
I  expressed  my  astonishment  at  his  breadth  of  view — Mon- 
sieur de  Ronquerolles  is  my  witness." 

"Certainly,"  said  this  gentleman,  "he  is  no  ordinary  youth; 
still,  I  do  not  build  much  on  his  future  career.  He  is  a  man 
of  impulse,  and,  as  Monsieur  de  Talleyrand  well  observed, 
the  first  impulse  is  always  the  best." 

"Well,  then,  monsieur?"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade  in- 
nocently. 

"Well,  madame,"  replied  Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles,  who 
piqued  himself  on  scepticism,  "heroism  is  out  of  date;  it  is 
a  desperately  heavy  and  clumsy  outfit,  and  sinks  the  wearer 
on  every  road." 

"And  yet  I  should  have  supposed  that  great  qualities  of 
heart  and  mind  had  something  to  do  with  the  composition 
of  a  man  of  mark." 


290  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Qualities  of  mind,  yes — you  are  right  there;  but  even  so, 
on  condition  of  their  tendency  in  a  certain  direction.  But 
qualities  of  heart — of  what  use,  I  ask  you,  can  they  be  in  a  po- 
litical career? — To  hoist  you  on  to  stilts  on  which  you  walk 
far  less  firmly  than  on  your  feet,  off  which  you  tumble  at  the 
first  push  and  break  your  neck." 

"Whence  we  must  conclude,"  said  Madame  do  Rastignac, 
laughing,  while  her  friend  preserved  a  disdainful  silence, 
"that  the  political  world  is  peopled  with  good-for-nothings." 

"That  is  very  near  the  truth,  madame;  ask  Lazarille!" 
And  with  this  allusion  to  a  pleasantry  that  is  still  famous 
on  the  stage,  Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles  laid  his  hand  famil- 
iarly on  the  Minister's  shoulder. 

"In  my  opinion,  my  dear  fellow,  your  generalizations  are 
rather  too  particular,"  said  Rastignac. 

"Nay,"  said  Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles,  "come  now;  let  us 
be  serious. — To  my  knowledge,  this  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve 
— the  name  he  has  assumed,  I  believe,  instead  of  Dorlange, 
which  he  himself  said  frankly  enough  was  a  name  for  the 
stage — has  committed  two  very  handsome  deeds  within  a 
short  time.  In  my  presence,  aiding  and  abetting,  he  was 
within  an  ace  of  being  killed  by  the  Due  de  Rhetore 
for.  a  few  unpleasant  remarks  made  on  one  of  his  friends. 
Now  he  really  need  not  have  heard  those  remarks ;  and,  hav- 
ing heard  them,  it  was  straining  a  point  to  consider  that  he 
had,  I  will  not  say  a  claim,  but  even  a  right  to  take  up  the 
quarrel." 

"Ah !"  said  Madame  de  Rastignac,  "it  was  he  then  who 
fought  the  duel  with  Monsieur  de  Rhetore  which  was  so 
much  discussed?" 

"Yes,  madame,  and  I  may  add  that  he  behaved  at  the  meet- 
ing with  splendid  courage — and  I  know  what  I  am  talking 
about." 

Before  the  other  "handsome  deed"  could  be  brought  into 
the  discussion,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  rude  by  interrupting 
the  course  of  the  argument,  Madame  de  1'Estorade  rose  and 
gave  her  husband  an  imperceptible  nod  to  signify  that  she 
wished  to  leave. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  291 

Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  took  advantage  of  the  slightness 
of  the  signal  to  ignore  it,  and  remained  immovable.  Mon- 
sieur de  Ronquerolles  went  on: 

"His  other  achievement  was  to  fling  himself  under  the 
feet  of  some  runaway  horses  and  snatch  Madame  de 
1'Estorade's  little  daughter  from  certain  death." 

Everybody  looked  at  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  who  this  time 
blushed  crimson;  but  at  the  same  instant  she  found  words, 
feeling  that  by  some  means  she  must  keep  her  countenance, 
and  she  said  with  some  spirit : 

"It  would  seem,  monsieur,  that  you  wish  to  convey  that 
Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  was  a  great  fool  for  his  pains,  since 
he  risked  his  life,  and  would  thus  have  cut  short  all  his 
chances  in  the  future.  I  may  tell  you,  however,  that  there 
is  one  woman  whom  you  would  hardly  persuade  to  share  that 
opinion — and  that  is  my  child's  mother." 

As  she  spoke,  Madame  de  1'Estorade  was  almost  in  tears. 
She  warmly  shook  hands  with  Madame  de  Rastignac,  and 
so  emphatically  made  a  move,  that  this  time  she  got  her 
fixture  of  a  husband  under  way. 

Madame  de  Rastignac,  as  she  went  with  her  friend  to  the 
drawing-room  door,  spoke  in  an  undertone: 

"I  really  thank  you,"  said  she,  "for  having  boldly  held  your 
own  against  that  cynic.  Monsieur  de  Rastignac  has  some 
unpleasant  allies  left  from  his  bachelor  days." 

As  she  returned  to  her  seat,  Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles  was 
speaking : 

"Aha,"  said  he,  "these  life-preservers ! — Poor  1'Estorade  is, 
in  fact,  as  yellow  as  a  lemon !" 

"Indeed,  monsieur,  you  are  atrocious !"  said  Madame  de 
Rastignac  indignantly.  "A  woman  whom  calumny  has  never 
dared  to  blight,  who  lives  solely  for  her  husband  and  children, 
and  who  has  tears  in  her  eyes  at  the  mere  remote  recollection 
of  the  danger  that  theatened  one  of  them !" 

"Bless  me,  madame,"  said  Monsieur  dc  Ronquerolles,  heed- 
less of  this  little  lecture,  "I  can  only  tell  you  that  your  New- 
foundland dog  is  a  dangerous  and  unwholesome  breed. — After 


292  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

all,  if  Madame  de  1'Estorade  should  think  herself  too  seriously 
compromised,  she  has  always  this  to  fall  back  on — she  can 
get  him  to  marry  the  girl  he  saved." 

Monsieur  de  Konquerolles  had  no  sooner  spoken  than  he 
was  conscious  of  the  hideous  blunder  he  had  made  by  uttering 
such  a  speech  in  Augusta  de  Xucingen's  drawing-room.  It 
was  his  turn  to  redden — though  he  had  lost  the  habit  of  it, 
and  deep  silence,  which  seemed  to  enfold  him,  put  the  crown- 
ing touch  to  his  embarrassment. 

"That  clock  is  surely  slow,"  said  Rastignac,  to  make  some 
sound  of  whatever  words,  and  also  to  put  an  end  to  a  sitting 
at  which  speech  was  so  luckless. 

"It  is  indeed,"  said  Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles,  after  look- 
ing at  his  watch.  "Just  on  a  quarter-past  twelve" — the  hour 
was  half-past  eleven. 

He  bowed  formally  to  the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  went, 
as  did  the  rest  of  the  company. 

"You  saw  how  distressed  he  was,"  said  Rastignac  to  his 
wife,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone.  "He  was  a  thousand  miles 
away  from  any  malicious  intent." 

"No  matter;  as  I  was  saying  just  now  to  Madame  de 
1'Estorade,  your  bachelor  life  has  left  you  heir  to  some  odious 
acquaintances." 

"But,  my  dear  child,  the  King  is  civil  every  day  to  people 
he  would  be  only  too  glad  to  lock  up  in  the  Bastille,  if  there 
still  were  a  Bastille,  and  if  the  Charter  would  allow  it." 

Madame  de  Rastignac  made  no  reply;  she  went  up  to  her 
room  without  saying  good-night. 

Not  long  after,  the  Minister  tapped  at  a  side  door  of  the 
room,  and  finding  it  locked: 

"Augusta,"  said  he,  in  the  voice  which  the  most  ordinary 
bourgeois  of  the  Rue  Saint-Denis  would  have  adopted  under 
similar  circumstances. 

The  only  answer  he  heard  was  a  bolt  shot  inside. 

"There  are  some  things  in  the  past,"  said  he  to  himself, 
with  much  annoyance,  "that  are  quite  unlike  that  door — they 
always  stand  wide  open  on  the  present." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  293 

"Augusta,"  he  began  again,  "I  wanted  to  ask  you  at  what 
hour  I  might  find  Madame  de  1'Estorade  at  home.  I  mean 
to  call  on  her  to-morrow  after  what  has  happened ' 

"At  four  o'clock,"  the  lady  called  back,  "when  she  comes 
in  from  the  Tuileries,  where  she  always  walks  with  the 
children." 

One  of  the  questions  which  had  been  most  frequently 
mooted  in  the  world  of  fashion  since  Madame  de  Kastignac's 
marriage  was  this — "Does  Augusta  love  her  husband?" 

Doubt  was  allowable ;  Mademoiselle  de  Nucingen's  marriage 
had  been  the  ill-favored  and  not  very  moral  result  of  an 
intimacy  such  as  is  apt  to  react  on  the  daughter's  life  when 
it  has  lasted  in  the  mother's  till  the  course  of  years  and  long 
staleness  have  brought  it  to  a  state  of  atrophy  and  paralysis. 
In  such  unions,  where  love  is  to  be  transferred  to  the  next 
generation,  the  husband  is  usually  more  than  willing,  for  he 
is  released  from  joys  that  have  turned  rancid,  and  avails  him- 
self of  a  bargain  like  that  offered  by  the  magician  in  the 
Arabian  Nights  to  exchange  old  lamps  for  new.  But  the  wife 
is  in  the  precisely  opposite  predicament;  between  her  and 
her  husband  there  stands  an  ever-present  memory — which 
may  come  to  life  again.  Even  apart  from  the  dominion  of  the 
senses,  she  must  be  conscious  of  an  older  power  antagonistic 
to  her  newer  influence;  must  she  not  almost  always  be  a  vic- 
tim, and  can  she  be  supposed  to  feel  impassioned  devotion  to 
the  maternal  leavings? — Rastignac  had  stood  waiting  outside 
the  door  for  about  as  long  as  it  has  taken  to  give  this  brief 
analysis  of  a  not  uncommon  conjugal  situation. 

"Well,  good-night,  Augusta,"  said  he,  preparing  to  de- 
part. 

As  he  piteously  took  his  leave,  the  door  was  suddenly 
opened,  and  his  wife,  throwing  herself  into  his  arms,  laid  her 
head  on  his  shoulder,  sobbing. 

The  question  was  answered:  Madame  de  Rastignac  loved 
her  husband. — And  yet  the  distant  murmuring  of  a  nice 
little  hell  might  be  heard  under  the  flowers  of  this  paradise. 

Rastignac  was  less  punctual  than  usual  next  morning;  and 


294  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

by  the  time  he  went  into  his  private  office,  the  ante-room 
beyond  was  already  occupied  by  seven  applicants  armed  with 
letters  of  introduction,  besides  two  peers  and  seven  members 
of  the  Lower  Chamber. 

A  bell  rang  sharply,  and  the  usher,  with  such  agitation  as 
proved  contagious  among  the  visitors,  hurried  into  the  Minis- 
ter's room.  A  moment  later  he  reappeared  with  the  stereo- 
typed apology: 

"The  Minister  is  called  to  attend  a  Council.  He  will,  how- 
ever, have  the  honor  of  receiving  the  members  of  the  Upper 
and  Lower  Chambers.  The  rest  of  the  gentlemen  are  re- 
quested to  call  again." 

"But  when — again?"  asked  one  of  the  postponed  victims. 
"This  is  the  third  time  I  have  called  within  three  days,  and 
all  for  nothing." 

The  usher  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say,  "That 
is  no  fault  of  mine;  I  only  obey  orders."  However,  hearing 
some  murmurs  as  to  the  privilege  accorded  to  the  Honorable 
Members : 

"Those  gentlemen,"  said  he,  with  some  pomposity,  "come 
to  discuss  matters  of  public  interest." 

The  visitors  having  been  paid  in  this  false  coin,  the  bell 
rang  again,  and  the  usher  put  on  his  most  affable  smile. 

By  some  obscure  natural  affinity  the  happier  portion  of 
this  little  crowd  had  gravitated  into  one  corner.  Though  they 
had  never  met  before,  since  most  of  them  were  the  offspring 
of  the  latest  national  travail,  they  had  somehow  recognized 
each  other  by  a  representative  manner,  very  difficult  to  define, 
but  quite  unmistakable.  It  was  to  this  upper  side  of  the  sieve, 
so  to  speak,  that  the  man  directed  his  insinuating  glance; 
not  daring  to  decide  among  so  many  great  men,  he  mutely 
suggested : 

"Whom  shall  I  have  the  honor  of  announcing  first?" 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Colonel  Franchessini,  "I  believe  I  have 
seen  you  all  come  in?" 

And  he  went  towards  the  door  which  the  usher  threw  open, 
announcing  in  a  loud,  distinct  voice : 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARC1S  295 

"Monsieur  le  Colonel  Franchessini." 

"Ah,  a  good  beginning  this  morning!"  said  the  Minister, 
going  forward  a  few  steps  and  holding  out  his  hand.  "What 
do  you  want  of  me,  my  dear  fellow?  A  railway,  a  canal,  a 
suspension  bridge ?" 

"I  have  come,  my  dear  friend,  to  trouble  you  about  a  little 
private  affair — a  matter  that  concerns  both  you  and  me?" 

"That  is  not  the  happiest  way  of  urging  the  question,  for 
I  must  tell  you  plainly  I  hold  no  good  recommendation  to 
myself." 

"You  have  had  a  visitor  lately  ?"  said  the  Colonel,  proceed- 
ing to  the  point. 

"A  visitor?     Dozens.     I  always  have." 

"Yes.  But  on  the  evening  of  Sunday  the  12th. — the  day 
of  the  riot?" 

"Ah !  now  I  know  what  you  mean. — But  the  man  is  going 
mad." 

"Do  you  think  so  ?"  said  the  Colonel  dubiously. 

"Well,  what  am  I  to  think  of  a  sort  of  visionary  who  makes 
his  way  in  here  under  favor  of  the  relaxed  vigilance  which 
in  a  Ministerial  residence  always  follows  on  musket-firing  in 
the  streets;  who  proceeds  to  tell  me  that  the  Government  is 
undermined  by  the  Republican  party,  at  the  very  moment 
when  the  Staff-officers  of  the  National  Guard  assure  me  that 
we  have  not  had  even  a  skirmish,  and  who  finally  suggests 
that  he  is  himself  the  only  man  who  can  insure  the  future 
safety  of  the  dynasty?" 

"So  that  you  did  not  welcome  him  very  cordially?" 

"So  that  I  soon  showed  him  out,  and  rather  peremptorily, 
in  spite  of  his  persistency.  At  any  time,  and  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, he  is  a  visitor  I  could  never  find  agreeable;  but 
when,  on  my  pointing  out  to  him  that  he  holds  a  post  for 
which  he  is  admirably  fitted,  and  which  he  fills  with  the 
greatest  skill,  so  that  it  must  be  the  utmost  limit  of  his 
ambition,  the  maniac  replies  that  unless  his  services  are  ac- 
cepted France  is  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  you  may  suppose 
I  had  but  one  thing  to  say — namely,  that  we  hope  to  save  it 
without  his  help." 


296  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Well,  it  is  done !"  said  the  Colonel.  "But  now,  if  you 
will  allow  me  to  explain  matters 

The  Minister,  sitting  at  his  table  with  his  back  to  the  fire, 
leaned  round  to  look  at  the  clock. 

"Look  here,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  after  seeing  what 
the  time  was,  "I  have  a  suspicion  that  you  will  not  be  brief, 
and  there  is  a  hungry  pack  waiting  outside  that  door;  even 
if  I  could  give  you  time,  I  could  not  listen  properly.  Be  so 
kind  as  to  go  for  an  airing  till  noon,  and  come  back  to  break- 
fast. I  will  introduce  you  to  Madame  de  Eastignac,  whom 
you  do  not  know,  I  believe,  and  when  we  rise  from  table  we 
will  take  a  turn  in  the  garden ;  there  I  shall  be  wholly  at  your 
service,  and  can  give  you  all  the  time  you  need." 

"That  will  suit  me  perfectly,"  said  the  Colonel,  leaving. 
As  he  crossed  the  waiting-room: 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "I  have  not  kept  you  long, 
have  I?" 

He  shook  hands  with  one  and  another,  and  went  away. 

Three  hours  later,  when  the  Colonel  appeared  in  Madame 
de  Rastignac's  drawing-room — where  he  was  introduced  to 
her — he  found  there  ISTucingen,  the  Minister's  father-in-law, 
who  came  almost  every  day  to  breakfast  there  on  his  way  to 
the  Bourse;  fimile  Blondet,  of  the  Debats;  Messrs.  Moreau 
(de  1'Oise),  Dionis,  and  Camusot,  three  fiercely  Conservative 
members;  and  two  of  the  newly  elect,  whose  names  it  is  not 
certain  that  Rastignac  himself  knew.  Franchessini  also  rec- 
ognized Martial  de  la  Roche-Hugon,  the  Minister's  brother- 
in-law  ;  the  inevitable  des  Lupeaulx,  a  Peer  of  France ;  and  a 
third  figure,  who  talked  for  a  long  time  with  Rastignac  in 
a  window  recess.  He,  fimile  Blondet  explained  in  reply  to 
the  Colonel's  inquiries,  was  a  former  functionary  of  the  secret 
police,  who  still  carried  on  his  profession  as  an  amateur,  mak- 
ing the  round  of  all  the  Government  offices  every  morning, 
under  every  Ministry,  with  as  much  zeal  and  punctuality  as  if 
it  still  were  his  duty. 

In  consequence  of  the  somewhat  keen  remarks  that  had 
passed  between  the  Colonel  and  Maxime  de  Trailles  as  to  the 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  297 

frame  of  mind  in  which  Madame  de  Rastignac  might  find  her- 
self when  marriage  should  have  palled  a  little,  he  was  bound 
to  give  some  attention  to  the  last  and  fourteenth  person,  a 
fresh-colored,  rosy  youth  who  was,  he  heard,  the  Minister's 
private  secretary.  It  is  well  known  that  private  secretaries, 
when  they  are  caught  young,  if  they  are  but  zealous  and  guile- 
less, have  to  some  extent  taken  the  place  of  the  aides-de-camp 
of  the  past.  However,  as  soon  as  he  heard  Madame  de  Ras- 
tignac address  this  young  official  with  the  familiar  tu,  asking 
him  after  his  mother  Madame  de  Restaud,  he  troubled  him- 
self no  further.  This  was  merely  a  little  cousin,  not  a  danger- 
ous rival,  whatever  the  playwrights  may  say,  when  a  young 
wife  has  a  due  sense  of  her  dignity.  Monsieur  de  Rastignac 
had  taken  as  his  private  secretary  Felix  Restaud,  second  son 
of  his  mother-in-law  Madame  de  Nucingen's  sister.  Ernest, 
the  elder,  was  pledged  to  the  Legitimist  party  as  having 
married  Camille,  daughter  of  the  Vicomtesse  de  Grandlieu, 
who  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  Duchess  of  the  same 
name. 

Madame  de  Rastignac,  seen  close,  was  fair  but  not 
lymphatic.  She  was  strikingly  like  her  mother,  but  with  the 
shade  of  greater  elegance,  which  in  parvenu  families  grows 
from  generation  to  generation  as  they  get  further  from  the 
source.  The  last  drop  of  the  original  Goriot  seemed  to  have 
evaporated  in  this  lovely  young  woman,  who  was  especially 
distinguished  by  the  fine  hands  and  feet,  which  show  breeding, 
and  of  which  the  absence  in  Madame  de  Nucingen,  in  spite 
of  her  beauty,  had  always  stamped  her  so  distressingly  as  the 
vermicelli-maker's  daughter. 

The  Colonel,  as  a  man  who  might  subsequently  have  ideas 
of  his  own,  showed  repressed  eagerness  in  his  attentions  to 
Madame  de  Rastignac,  with  the  gallantry,  now  rather  out  of 
date,  which  seems  addressed  to  Woman  rather  than  to  the 
individual  woman;  idle  men  alone,  especially  if  they  have 
been  soldiers,  seem  to  preserve  a  reflection  of  this  tradition. 
The  Colonel,  whose  successes  in  the  boudoir  had  been  many, 
knew  that  this  distant  method  of  preparing  the  approaches 


298  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

is  a  very  effective  strategy  in  besieging  a  place.  An  air  of 
adoration  and  worship,  though  so  much  out  of  fashion,  never 
displeases  a  woman;  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  who 
are  Voltairean  sceptics  as  to  love,  regarding  it  as  mere  good- 
fellowship,  and  laughing  at  the  respectful  feeling  of  a  man 
who  hesitates  to  approach  them  with  a  cigar  between  his  teeth, 
so  to  speak,  most  women  are  grateful  to  an  adorer,  particularly 
if  he  is  not  a  Celadon,  when  he  treats  them  with  pious  rever- 
ence and  rather  like  sacred  relics. 

The  Colonel,  as  he  meant  to  be  asked  to  the  house  again, 
took  care  to  speak  of  his  wife.  "She  lived,"  he  said,  "very 
much  in  the  old  English  way,  in  her  own  home ;  but  he  would 
be  happy  to  drag  her  out  of  her  habitual  retirement  to  in- 
troduce her  to  a  lady  of  such  distinguished  merit  as  Madame 
de  Rastignac,  if  indeed  she  would  allow  him  to  bring  her. 
In  spite  of  a  wide  difference  in  age  between  his  wife  and  his 
friend  the  Minister's,  they  would  find,  he  thought,  one  happy 
point  of  contact  in  a  similar  zeal  for  good  works." 

In  fact,  Franchessini  had  hardly  entered  the  room  when 
he  found  himself  obliged  to  take  from  Madame  de  Rastignac 
a  ticket  for  a  ball  of  which  she  was  a  lady  patroness,  to  be 
got  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  victims  of  the  recent  earthquake 
in  Martinique. 

It  was  the  fashion  then  among  women  to  display  in  such 
acts  of  charity  an  audacity  beyond  all  bounds;  now,  as  it 
happened,  Madame  Franchessini  was  an  Irishwoman  of  great 
piety,  who  spent  in  good  works  most  of  her  spare  time  after 
superintending  the  management  of  her  house,  and  a  large 
part  of  the  sums  she  reserved  for  her  own  use  apart  from  her 
husband's.  So  the  offer  of  an  intimacy  with  a  woman  who 
would  be  so  ready  to  give  her  money  and  her  exertions  when 
needed  for  a  creche,  or  infant  schools,  or  children  orphaned 
by  the  cholera,  was  a  really  skilful  stroke  of  diplomacy;  and 
it  shows  that  the  sportsman  in  the  Colonel  had  not  altogether 
killed  the  faculty  of  foresight. 

Breakfast  over,  the  guests  left  or  withdrew  to  the  drawing- 
room  ;  and  Franchessini,  who  had  sat  at  Madame  de  Ras- 
tignac's  right  hand,  continued  his  conversation  with  her. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  299 

While  he,  like  Hercules  at  the  feet  of  Omphale,  devoted 
his  anxious  attention  to  the  worsted  work — for  the  benefit  of 
the  poor — which  the  Countess  held  in  her  pretty  fingers,  the 
Minister,  in  obedience  to  the  proverb,  "Give  every  dog  his 
day,"  had  taken  fimile  Blondet's  arm — Blondet  of  the  Debats 
— and  made  a  couple  of  rounds  of  the  grass  plot  that  lay  out- 
side the  glass  doors  of  the  drawing-room.  As  he  parted  from 
him  he  gave  him  this  final  hint : 

"You  understand?  We  do  not  want  to  drive  a  bargain; 
however,  the  majority  is  ours." 

"Now  for  you  and  me,  my  friend !"  said  he  to  the  Colonel, 
and  they  went  into  the  garden. 

"I,  less  fortunate  than  you,"  said  Franchessini,  taking  up 
his  story  at  the  point  where  it  had  been  interrupted  a  few 
hours  previously,  "have  kept  up  communications  with  the 
man  we  spoke  of — not  constant,  indeed;  but  a  sort  of  evil 
concatenation  of  contact.  To  avoid  ever  having  him  in  my 
house,  we  agreed  that  whenever  he  wanted  to  speak  to  me  he 
should  write  to  me  without  any  signature  and  tell  me  where 
to  meet  him.  In  the  almost  impossible  event  of  my  wishing 
to  see  him,  I  was  to  send  a  playing  card  figure  cut  out  to 
his  den  in  the  Eue  Sainte-Anne,  and  he  would  notify  the  spot 
where  we  might  meet  undisturbed.  He  may  be  trusted  for  a 
clever  choice  of  a  suitable  place;  no  man  knows  his  Paris 
better,  or  the  ways  of  moving  about  underground" 

"High  political  qualifications!"  said  Rastignac  sarcastic- 
ally. 

"I  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  you  see,"  replied  the  Colonel, 
"to  prove  to  you  that,  in  my  opinion,  this  is  a  man  to  be 
treated  with  respect ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  that  you  may  not 
suppose  that  I  am  showing  you  a  mere  phantasmagoria  with 
a  view  to  persuading  you  into  doing  a  thing  quite  contrary  to 
your  first  intentions." 

"Pray  go  on,"  said  Eastignac,  pausing  to  gather  a  full- 
blown China  rose — by  way,  perhaps,  of  showing  his  perfect 
openness  of  mind. 

"On  the  evening  of  the  very  day  when  you  had  given  him 


300  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

so  rough  a  reception,  and  my  election  was  already  known  by 
telegraph  and  announced  in  an  evening  paper.  I  received  a 
note  from  him,  a  thing  that  had  not  happened  for  the  last 
eighteen  months — very  short  and  concise : — 'To-morrow  morn- 
ing, six  o'clock — Eedoute  de  Clignancourt.' >: 

"Like  a  challenge/'  observed  Eastignac. 

"A  reminder  of  one,  certainly;  for,  as  you  may  remember, 
it  was  at  Montmartre  that,  in  that  unfortunate  duel — with 
my  own  hands — about  1820 — poor  young  Taillefer ! — Some- 
times, at  dusk,  I  think  of  that  luckless  fellow,  though  the 
wound,  as  you  know,  was  honestly  given " 

"Ay,  one  of  those  ugly  stories,"  said  Eastignac,  "which  save 
us  from  regretting  our  young  days  when  such  things  were 
done." 

"The  man  whom  you  call  a  visionary,"  Franchessini  went 
on,  "was,  when  I  joined  him,  sitting  on  a  knoll,  his  head  be- 
tween his  hands.  When  he  heard  me,  and  as  I  went  close 
to  him,  he  rose  in  a  state  of  high  excitement,  took  me  by  the 
hand,  led  me  to  the  spot — very  little  altered — where  the  duel 
took  place,  and  in  the  strident  voice  you  know  so  well :  'What 
did  you  do  here,  nearly  five-and-twenty  years  ago  ?'  said  he. — 
'A  thing/  said  I,  'of  which,  on  my  honor,  I  repent.' — 'And  I 
too. — And  for  whom?'  As  I  made  no  reply,  he  went  on: 
'For  a  man  whose  fortune  I  wanted  to  make.  You  killed  the 
brother  to  please  me,  that  the  sister  might  be  a  rich  heiress 
for  him  to  marry ' " 

"But  it  was  all  done  without  my  knowledge,"  Eastignac 
hastily  put  in ;  "and  I  did  everything  in  my  power  to  prevent 
it." 

"So  I  told  him,"  said  the  Colonel,  "and  he  paid  no  heed 

to  the  remark,  but  only  grew  more  frantic,  exclaiming :  'Well, 

.and  when  I  go  to  that  man's  house,  not  to  ask  him  a  favor, 

but  to  offer  him  my  services,  he  shows  me  the  door !     And 

does  he  think  I  am  going  to  overlook  it  ?' '' 

"He  is  remarkably  touchy,"  said  Eastignac  quietly.  "I 
did  not  show  him  the  door.  I  only  rather  roughly  cut  short 
his  boasting  and  exaggeration." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  301 

"He  then  went  on/'  said  the  Colonel,  "to  relate  his  inter- 
view with  you  the  previous  evening ;  the  proposal  he  had  made 
to  give  up  his  place  in  the  criminal  police  in  favor  of  a  post 
as  superintendent — far  more  needed,  in  his  opinion — of 
political  malefactors.  'I  am  sick/  said  he,  'of  liming  twigs 
to  catch  thieves,  such  an  idiotic  kind  of  game-bird  that  all 
their  tricks  are  stale  to  me.  And,  then,  what  interest  can  I 
find  in  nabbing  men  who  would  steal  a  silver  mug  or  a*  few 
banknotes,  when  there  are  others  only  waiting  for  a  chance 
to  grab  at  the  crown  ?' ': 

"Very  true,"  said  Eastignac,  with  a  smile,  "if  it  were  not 
for  the  National  Guard,  and  the  army,  and  the  two  Chambers, 
and  the  King  who  can  ride." 

"He  added,"  said  Franchessini,  "that  he  was  not  ap- 
preciated, and,  with  a  reminiscence  of  the  lingo  of  the  past, 
that  he  was  fagged  out  over  mere  child's  play;  that  he  had 
in  him  very  powerful  qualities  adapted  to  shine  in  a  higher 
sphere;  that  he  had  trained  a  man  to  take  his  place;  that  I 
must  positively  see  and  talk  to  you;  and  that  now  I  was  a 
member,  I  had  a  right  to  speak  and  impress  on  you  the  possible 
results  of  a  refusal." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Rastignac  decisively,  "I  can  but 
say,  as  I  did  at  the  beginning  of  our  conversation,  the  man  is 
a  lunatic,  and  I  have  never  been  afraid  of  a  madman,  whether 
a  cheerful  or  furious  one." 

"I  do  not  deny  that  I  myself  saw  great  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  satisfying  his  demand.  However,  I  tried  to  soothe 
him  by  promising  to  see  you,  pointing  out  to  him  that  noth- 
ing could  be  done  in  a  hurry ,  and  in  point  of  fact,  but  for 
an  accessory  circumstance,  I  should  probably  not  have  men- 
tioned the  matter  for  some  long  time  to  come." 

"And  that  circumstance ?"  asked  the  Minister. 

"Yesterday  morning,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "I  had  a  visit 
from  Maxime,  who  had  just  returned  from  Arcis-sur- 
Aube " 

"I  know,"  said  Rastignac.  "He  mentioned  the  matter  to 
me — an  idea  devoid  of  common-sense.  Either  the  man  en 


302  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

whom  he  wants  to  set  your  bloodhound  is  good  for  something 
— or  he  is  not.  If  he  is  not,  it  is  perfectly  useless  to  employ 
a  dangerous  and  suspected  instrument  to  destroy  the  thing 
that  does  not  exist.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  to  do 
with  a  good  man  in  the  right  place,  he  has,  on  the  platform 
of  the  Chamber,  and  in  the  newspapers,  every  means,  not  only 
of  parrying  such  blows  as  we  may  be  able  to  strike  with 
muffled  swords,  but  of  turning  them  against  ourselves. — Take 
it  as  a  general  rule,  in  a  country  like  ours,  crazy  for  publicity, 
wherever  the  hand  of  the  police  is  seen,  even  if  it  were  to  un- 
veil the  basest  turpitude,  you  may  be  sure  that  there  will  be 
an  outcry  against  the  Government.  Opinion  in  such  a  case 
behaves  like  the  man  to  whom  some  one  sang  an  air  by  Mozart 
to  prove  how  great  a  composer  he  was.  The  hearer,  conquered 
by  the  evidence,  said  at  last  to  the  singer,  'Well,  Mozart  may 
be  a  great  musician,  but  you,  my  good  friend,  may  congratu- 
late yourself  on  having  a  great  cold !' '' 

"Indeed,  there  is  much  truth  in  your  remark,"  said 
Franchessini.  "Still,  the  man  Maxime  wants  to  unmask  can 
only  be  of  respectable  mediocrity;  and  without  being  able  to 
lunge  with  such  force  as  you  suppose,  he  may  nevertheless 
tease  you  a  good  deal.  The  most  dangerous  adversaries  are 
not  all  giants  of  formidable  eloquence." 

"I  expect  to  ascertain  the  true  worth  of  your  new  colleague 
ere  long  from  a  quarter  where  I  may  count  on  better  informa- 
tion than  Monsieur  de  Trailles  can  command.  On  this  oc- 
casion he  has  let  himself  in,  and  is  trying  to  make  up  for 
lack  of  skill  by  vehemence.  As  to  your  incubus — whom  I 
should  not,  in  any  case,  employ  to  carry  out  Maxime's  dream 
— as  he  seems  not  altogether  useless,  at  least  from  the  point 
of  view  of  your  connection  with  him,  just  to  give  him  an 
answer  I  should  say " 

"Well,  what?"  said  Franchessini,  with  increased  attention. 

"I  should  tell  him  that,  quite  apart  from  his  criminal  ex- 
perience, which,  as  soon  as  he  heads  the  political  ranks,  might 
expose  him  to  serious  outrages  that  would  recoil  on  us,  there 
are  in  his  past  life  some  very  ugly  records " 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  303 

"But  records  only,"  replied  Francliessini.  "For  you  un- 
derstand that  when  he  ventured  into  your  presence  it  was,  so 
to  speak,  in  a  new  skin." 

"I  know  all,"  said  Eastignac.  "You  do  not  suppose  that 
he  is  the  only  police  spy  in  Paris. — After  his  visit  I  made 
inquiries,  and  I  heard  that  since  1830,  when  he  was  placed  at 
the  head  of  his  department,  he  had  lived  a  middle-class  life 
of  the  strictest  respectability ;  the  only  fault  I  have  to  fim} 
with  it  is  that  it  is  too  perfect  a  disguise." 

"Nevertheless "  said  the  Colonel. 

"He  is  rich,"  Eastignac  went  on ;  "his  salary  is  twelve  thou- 
sand francs  a  year  from  the  Government ;  with  three  hundred 
thousand  he  inherited  from  Lucien  dc  Eubempre,  and  the 
profits  from  a  patent-leather  factory  which  he  has  near 
Gentilly,  and  which  is  paying  very  well.  His  aunt  Jacqueline 
Collin,  who  keeps  house  with  him,  still  dabbles  in  certain  dirty 
jobs,  from  which,  of  course,  she  derives  large  profits;  and  I 
have  strong  reason  to  believe  that  they  have  both  gambled 
successfully  on  the  Bourse.  The  deuce  is  in  it,  my  dear  fel- 
low, if,  under  such  circumstances,  a  man  cannot  whitewash 
himself  and  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  In  the  age  in  which  we 
live,  luxury  is  a  power;  it  does  not,  indeed,  secure  considera- 
tion and  respect,  but  it  presents  their  counterfeit,  which 
comes  to  much  the  same  thing.  Just  set  some  great  financiers 
or  statesmen  I  could  name  in  a  garret,  or  going  about  on  foot 
— why,  the  street  boys  would  run  after  them  and  hoot  them 
like  drunkards  or  carnival  guys ! — And  your  man,  who,  to 
escape  tramping  the  mud,  wanted  to  perch  his  life  on  a 
pedestal,  could  find  no  better  plan  than  to  get  himself  sud- 
denly transferred  to  the  furthest  social  pole  from  his  own. 
Every  evening  now,  in  a  cafe  close  to  the  Prefecture,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Pont  Saint-Michel,  he  sits  down  sociably  to  his 
game  of  dominoes;  and  on  Sundays  he  goes  with  a  party  of 
retired  tradesmen  to  spend  the  day  in  philosophical  retire- 
ment in  a  shanty  he  has  bought  not  far  from  the  woods  of 
Romainville  in  the  PITS  Saint-dervais;  ihere  lie  tries  to  grow 
blue  dahlias,  and  was  talking  last  year  of  crowning  a  rose- 
queen  ! 


304  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Now  all  this,  my  dear  Colonel,  is  too  bucolic  to  lead  up 
to  the  superintendence  of  the  political  police.  Let  him  be- 
stir himself  a  little — this  old  Germeuil,  fling  a  little  money 
about,  give  some  dinners ! — Why,  the  executioner  could  get 
men  to  dine  with  him  if  he  wished  it." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Franchessini.  "I  think 
that  he  keeps  himself  too  much  curled  up  for  fear  of  attract- 
ing notice." 

"Tell  him,  on  the  contrary,  to  uncurl;  and,  since  he  wants 
to  have  a  finger  in  public  business,  he  should  find  some  credit- 
able opportunity  for  being  talked  about.  Does  he  fancy  that, 
hide  in  what  corner  he  will,  the  press  will  not  know  where  to 
find  him?  Let  him  do  as  the  niggers  do;  they  do  not  try 
to  wash  themselves  white,  but  they  have  a  passion  for  bright 
colors,  and  dress  in  scarlet  coats  covered  with  gold  braid. — 
I  know  what  I  should  do  in  his  place:  to  appear  thoroughly 
cleaned,  I  should  take  up  with  some  actress,  some  one  very  no- 
torious, conspicious,  before  the  public.  I  do  not  say  that  I 
would  ruin  myself,  but  I  would  seem  to  ruin  myself  for  her, 
with  all  the  airs  of  one  of  those  frenzied  passions  for  which 
the  public  is  always  indulgent,  if  not  sympathetic.  I  should 
display  all  my  luxury  on  this  idol's  account;  people  would 
come,  not  to  my  house,  but  to  hers.  Then,  thanks  to  my  mis- 
tress, I  should  be  endured  at  my  own  table,  and  by  degrees 
I  should  make  a  connection.  All  the  leading  men  in  our 
sphere  of  life  gather  round  a  famous  actress  as  inevitably  as 
moths  round  a  candle ;  the  men  who  can  make  or  unmake,  or 
— which  is  the  crowning  feat  of  art — can  remake  a  reputation. 
Politicians,  men  on  'Change,  journalists,  artists,  men  of  let- 
ters, I  would  harness  them  all  to  drag  me  out  of  the  mud, 
while  feeding  them  well,  and  showing  myself  ever  ready  with 
my  sympathy,  and  yet  more  with  my  money,  to  help  them  in 
a  hundred  little  ways. 

"All  this,  my  dear  fellow,  will  not,  of  course,  make  him  a 
Saint  Vincent  de  Paul — though  he  too  had  been  on  the 
galleys — but  it  would  get  him  classed  among  the  third  01 
fourth  rate  notabilities — a  man  possible  to  deal  with.  The 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  305 

road  thus  laid,  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve  might  prove  'ne- 
gotiable' ;  and  if  he  then  came  to  me,  and  I  were  still  in  power, 
I  might  be  able  to  listen  to  him." 

"There  is  certainly  something  to  be  said  for  this  plan," 
replied  Franchessini.  But  in  his  own  mind  he  reflected  that 
his  friend  the  Minister  had  made  great  strides  since  the  days 
of  the  Pension  Vauquer,  and  that  he  and  Vautrin — as  Saint- 
Esteve  was  then  called — had  exchanged  parts. 

"But  at  any  rate,"  added  Eastignac,  going  up  the  steps 
to  return  to  the  drawing-room,  "make  him  clearly  understand 
that  he  misinterpreted  my  way  of  receiving  him.  That  even- 
ing I  was  naturally  absorbed  in  anxious  reflections." 

"Be  quite  easy,"  said  Franchessini,  "I  will  talk  to  him  in 
the  right  way ;  for,  as  I  must  repeat,  he  is  not  a  man  to  drive 
to  extremities ;  there  have  been  incidents  in  our  past  which 
cannot  be  wiped  out." 

And  as  the  Minister  made  no  reply,  it  was  sufficiently 
obvious  that  he  appreciated  the  observation  at  its  true  value. 

"You  will  be  here  for  the  King's  speech,  I  hope,"  said  Eas- 
tignac to  the  Colonel ;  "we  want  a  little  enthusiasm." 

Franchessini,  before  leaving,  asked  Madame  de  Eastignac 
to  name  a  day  when  he  might  have  the  honor  of  bringing  his 
wife  to  call. 

"Any  day,"  replied  Augusta, '  "but  more  especially  any 
Friday." 

At  the  hour  when  Eastignac,  by  his  wife's  instructions, 
thought  himself  sure  to  find  Madame  de  FEstorade,  he  did 
not  fail  to  call.  Like  all  who  had  been  present  at  the  little 
scene  to  which  Monsieur  de  Eonquerolles'  remarks  had  given 
rise,  the  Minister  had  been  struck  by  the  Countess'  agitation ; 
and  without  concerning  himself  to  gauge  the  nature  or  depth 
of  her  feelings  towards  the  man  who  had  saved  her  child, 
he  was  convinced  that  she  was  at  least  greatly  interested  by 
him. 

The  unexpected  feat  of  winning  his  election  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  Government  to  Sallenauve,  all  the  more  be- 


306  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

cause  at  first  his  nomination  had  hardly  been  taken  seriously. 
It  was  known,  too,  that  at  the  preliminary  meeting  on  the 
eve  of  the  election  he  had  shown  himself  a  clever  man. 
He  might  easily  become  a  fairly  resonant  voice,  speaking 
for  a  dangerous  and  restless  party,  represented  in  the  Cham- 
ber by  an  almost  imperceptible  minority.  His  fortune,  what- 
ever its  origin,  would  enable  him  to  dispense  with  Ministerial 
favors,  and  all  the  information  obtainable  represented  him 
as  a  man  not  easily  turned  from  the  path  he  had  chosen,  and 
characterized  by  a  certain  gravity  of  demeanor  and  purpose. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  obscurity  that  hung  over  his  history 
might  at  any  moment  serve  to  extinguish  him. 

Kastignac,  while  affecting  to  discard  with  vehemence  the 
idea  of  an  attack  from  that  side,  in  his  own  mind  did  not  al- 
together renounce  the  possibility  of  using  means  which  he 
foresaw  would  be  difficult  to  handle;  he  would  fall  back  on 
them  only  if  it  were  obviously  necessary.  In  this  state  of  things 
Madame  de  1'Estorade  might  be  useful  in  two  ways :  through 
her  it  seemed  easy  to  arrange  an  accidental  meeting  with  the 
new  deputy,  so  as  to  study  him  at  ease  and  ascertain  whether 
there  were  any  single  point  at  which  he  might  prove  accessible 
to  terms.  And  since  this,  it  would  seem,  was  improbable,  it 
would  at  any  rate  be  easy,  by  confiding  to  Madame  de 
1'Estorade  in  a  friendly  but  official  way  the  underhand  plot- 
ting that  was  going  on  against  Sallenauve,  to  warn  him  to 
be  cautious,  and  consequently  less  aggressive. 

And  all  this  would  follow  naturally  from  the  step  the 
Minister  was  now  taking.  By  seeming  to  call  on  purpose  to 
apologize  for  Monsieur  de  Eonquerolles'  mode  of  speech,  he 
would  allude  in  the  most  natural  manner  possible  to  the  man 
who  had  been  the  occasion  and  the  object  of  it ;  and  the  con- 
versation once  started  on  these  lines,  he  must  be  clumsy  in- 
deed if  he  could  not  achieve  one  or  the  other,  or  possibly 
both,  of  the  results  he  aimed  at. 

Monsieur  de  Eastignac's  plan  of  action  was,  however,  des- 
tined to  be  modified.  The  servant,  who  happened  to  be  speak- 
ing to  the  gate  keeper,  had  just  informed  the  visitor  that 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  307 

Madame  de  1'Estorade  was  not  at  home,  when  Monsieur  de 
FEstorade  came  in  on  foot,  and  seeing  the  Minister's  carriage, 
rushed  forward.  However  well  a  man  may  stand  with  the 
world,  it  always  seems  a  pity  to  dismiss  a  visitor  of  such  im- 
portance; and  the  accountant-general  was  not  the  man  to  re- 
sign himself  to  such  a  misfortune  without  a  struggle. 

"But  my  wife  will  soon  be  in,"  he  insisted  as  he  saw  his 
house  threatened  with  the  loss  of  such  a  piece  of  good  fortune. 
"She  is  gone  to  Ville-d'Avray  with  her  daughter,  and  Mon- 
sieur and  Madame  Octave  de  Camps.  Monsieur  Marie- 
Gaston,  a  great  friend  of  ours — the  charming  poet,  you  know, 
who  married  Louise  de  Chaulieu — has  a  house  there,  where 
his  wife  died.  He  has  never  till  now  set  foot  in  it  since  that 
misfortune.  These  ladies  were  so  charitable  as  to  accompany 
him,  so  as  to  break  the  shock  of  his  return;  and  a  little  out 
of  curiosity  too,  for  the  villa  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most 
perfect  retreats  ever  imagined." 

"But  in  that  case  Madame  de  1'Estorade's  visit  may  last 
till  late,"  said  Eastignac.  "It  was  to  her,  and  not  to  you, 
my  dear  Count,  that  I  came  to  offer  my  apologies  for  the 
little  scene  last  evening,  which  seemed  to  annoy  her  a  good 
deal. — Will  you  kindly  express  to  her  from  me " 

"I  will  stake  my  head  on  it,  my  dear  sir,  that  by  the  time 
you  turn  the  street  corner,  my  wife  will  be  here;  she  is  abso- 
lutely punctual  in  everything  she  does,  and  to  me  it  is  simply 
miraculous  that  she  should  be  even  a  few  minutes  late." 

Seeing  him  so  bent  on  detaining  him,  Rastignac  feared 
to  be  disobliging,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  be  dragged  out 
of  his  carriage,  and  await  the  Countess'  return  in  her  draw- 
ing-room ;  for,  often  enough,  for  less  than  this  a  faithful 
voter  has  been  lost. 

"So  Madame  Octave  de  Camps  is  in  Paris?"  said  he,  for 
the  sake  of  saying  something. 

"Yes,  she  made  her  appearance  unexpectedly  without  letting 
my  wife  know,  though  they  are  in  constant  correspondence. 
Her  husband  has,  I  think,  some  request  to  make  to  you.  You 
have  not  seen  him?" 


308  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"No ;  but  I  think  I  remember  seeing  his  card." 

"It  is  some  mining  business  he  is  projecting;  and  as  I  have 
your  ear,  allow  me  to  tell  you  something  about  it." 

"Mercy !"  thought  Rastignac,  "I  am  very  kind,  I  am  sure, 
to  have  come  here  merely  to  stand  a  fire  of  recommendations, 
point-blank." 

So,  cutting  short  the  explanation  1'Estorade  had  already 
begun,  and  seeing  no  reason  why  he  should  not  quite  un- 
ceremoniously ask  the  husband  one  of  the  things  which  he  had 
proposed  to  ask  the  wife: 

"Excuse  my  interrupting  you,"  said  he,  "we  will  return  to 
the  subject;  but  at  this  moment  I  am  in  some  uneasiness." 

"How  is  that?" 

"Your  friend  Sallenauve's  election  has  made  a  devil  of 
a  rumpus.  The  King  was  speaking  of  him  to  me  this  morn- 
ing, and  he  was  not  particularly  delighted  when  I  com- 
municated to  him  the  opinion  you  expressed  only  last  even- 
ing as  to  our  new  adversary." 

"Bless  me !  But,  as  you  know,  the  tribune  is  a  rock  on 
which  many  a  ready-made  reputation  is  wrecked.  And  I  am 
sorry  too  that  you  should  have  spoken  of  Sallenauvc  to  the 
King  as  a  friend  of  ours.  It  is  not  I  who  direct  the  elections. 
You  should  appeal  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior.  I  can 
only  say  that  I  tried  fifty  ways  to  hinder  the  tiresome  man 
from  standing." 

"But  you  must  see  that  the  King  can  owe  }rou  no  grudge 
because  you  happen  to  know  a  candidate  so  absolutely  un- 
dreamed of " 

"No.  But  last  evening  in  your  own  drawing-room  you 
remarked  to  my  wife  that  she  seemed  greatly  interested  in 
him.  I  could  not  contradict  before  others,  because  it  is 
monstrous  to  deny  knowledge  of  a  man  to  whom  we  lie  under 
so  serious  an  obligation.  But,  in  fact,  my  wife  especially 
has  felt  that  obligation  a  burden  since  the  day  when  he  went 
off  to  stand  for  election.  Though  she  never  troubles  her  head 
about  politics,  she  prefers  the  society  of  those  who  swim  in  our 
OWD  waters,  and  she  probably  foresees  that  an  intimacy  with  a 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  309 

man  whose  daily  business  it  is  to  attack  our  side  may  be 
difficult  and  very  moderately  pleasant.  She  even  said  to  me 
the  other  day  that  he  was  an  acquaintance  to  be  quietly 
dropped — 

"Not,  I  hope,"  interrupted  Rastignac,  "before  you  have 
done  me  the  service  I  came  to  ask." 

"At  your  service,  my  dear  Minister,  whatever  it  may  be." 

"To  plunge  in  head  foremost,  then :  before  seeing  this  man 
in  the  Chamber  I  want  to  take  his  measure,  and  for  that 
purpose  I  want  to  meet  him.  To  invite  him  to  dine  with  us 
would  be  useless;  under  the  eye  of  his  party  he  would  not 
dare  to  accept,  even  if  he  wished  it.  Besides,  he  would  be  on 
his  guard,  and  I  should  not  see  him  as  he  is.  But  if  we  came 
across  each  other  by  chance,  I  should  find  him,  as  it  were,  in 
undress,  and  could  feel  my  way  to  discover  if  he  has  a  weak 
spot." 

"If  I  asked  him  to  meet  you  at  dinner  here,  there  would 
be  the  same  difficulty. — Supposing  I  were  to  find  out  some 
evening  that  he  intended  to  call,  and  sent  you  word  in  the 
course  of  the  day  ?" 

"We  should  be  too  small  a  party,"  said  Rastignac,  "and 
then  a  separate  conversation  between  two  is  hard  to  manage ; 
the  meeting  is  so  intimate  that  any  tete-a-tete  betrays  the  ag- 
'gravating  circumstance  of  premeditated  arrangement " 

"Stay!"  cried  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  "I  have  a  bright 
idea " 

"If  the  idea  is  really  bright,"  thought  the  Minister,  "I 
shall  have  gained  by  not  finding  the  lady  in,  for  she  cer- 
tainly would  not  have  been  so  anxious  to  carry  out  my 
wishes." 

"One  day  soon,"  FEstorade  went  on,  "we  are  giving  a  little 
party,  a  children's  dance.  It  is  a  treat  my  wife,  tired  of 
refusing,  has  promised  our  little  girl,  in  fact  as  a  festival  to 
celebrate  our  joy  at  still  having  her  with  us.  The  Preserver, 
as  you  perceive,  is  an  integral  and  indispensable  item,  and 
I  think  I  may  promise  you  noise  enough  to  enable  you  to  take 
your  man  aside  without  any  difficulty,  while  at  a  party  of  that 
kind  premeditation  can  hardly  be  suspected." 


310  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"The  idea  is  certainly  a  good  one — probability  alone  is 
wanting." 

"Probability  ?" 

"Certainly.  You  forgot  that  I  have  been  married  scarcely 
a  year,  and  that  I  have  no  contingent  to  account  for  my  pres- 
ence that  evening  among  your  party." 

"That  is  true.     I  had  not  thought  of  that." 

"But  let  me  consider,"  said  the  Minister.  "Among  your 
guests  will  there  be  the  little  Roche-Hugons  ?" 

"No  doubt;  the  children  of  a  man  I  should  esteem  most 
highly  even  if  he  had  not  the  honor  of  so  near  a  relationship 
to  you." 

"Well,  then,  all  is  plain  sailing.  My  wife  will  come  with 
her  sister-in-law,  Madame  de  la  Roche-Hugon,  to  see  her 
nieces  dancing — nothing  is  more  complimentary  on  such  oc- 
casions than  to  drop  in  without  the  formality  of  an  invitation; 
and  I,  without  saying  anything  to  my  wife,  am  gallant  enough 
to  come  to  take  her  home." 

"Admirable !"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  "and  we  by 
this  little  drama  gain  the  delightful  reality  of  your  presence 
here !" 

"You  are  too  kind,"  said  Rastignac,  shaking  hands  cordially. 
"But  I  believe  it  will  be  well  to  say  nothing  to  Madame  de 
1'Estorade.  Our  puritan,  if  he  got  wind  of  the  plan,  is  the 
man  to  stay  away.  It  will  be  better  that  I  should  pounce 
on  him  unexpectedly  like  a  tiger  on  its  prey." 

"Quite  so. — A  surprise  for  everybody !" 

"Then  I  am  off,"  said  Rastignac,  "for  fear  I  should  drop 
a  word  to  Madame  de  FEstorade.  I  shall  be  able  to  amuse 
the  King  to-morrow  by  telling  him  of  our  little  plot  and  the 
education  of  children  to  be  political  go-betweens." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  philosophically, 
"is  not  this  the  whole  history  of  life:  great  effects  from  small 
causes  ?" 

Rastignac  had  only  just  left  when  Madame  de  1'Estorade, 
her  daughter  Xa'is,  and  her  friends  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Octave  de  Camps  came  into  the  drawing-room  where  the  con- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  311 

spiracy  had  been  laid  against  the  new  member's  independence 
— a  plot  here  recorded  at  some  length  as  a  specimen  of  the 
thousand-and-one  trivialities  to  which  a  constitutional  minis- 
ter not  unfrequently  has  to  attend. 

"And  do  you  not  smell  the  smell  of  a  Minister  here  ?"  said 
Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 

"Not  such  a  very  delicious  scent,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Mon- 
sieur de  Camps,  who,  as  a  Legitimist,  belonged  to  the  Opposi- 
tion. 

"That  is  a  matter  of  taste,"  said  the  Peer. — "My  dear,"  he 
went  on,  addressing  his  wife,  "you  have  come  so  late  that  you 
have  missed  a  distinguished  visitor." 

"Who  is  that?"  the  Countess  asked  indifferently. 

"The  Minister  of  Public  Works,  who  came  to  offer  you 
an  apology.  He  had  noted  with  regret  the  unpleasant  im- 
pression made  upon  you  by  the  theories  put  forward  by  that 
wretched  Eonquerolles." 

"That  is  disturbing  himself  for  a  very  small  matter,"  re- 
plied Madame  de  1'Estorade,  who  was  far  from  sharing  her 
husband's  excitement. 

"At  any  rate/'  replied  he,  "it  was  very  polite  of  him  to 
have  noticed  the  matter." 

Madame  de  1'Estorade,  without  seeming  to  care  much, 
asked  what  had  passed  in  the  course  of  the  visit. 

"We  discussed  indifferent  subjects,"  said  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade  craftily.  "However,  I  took  the  opportunity  of 
getting  a  word  in  on  the  subject  of  Monsieur  de  Camps' 
business." 

"Much  obliged,"  said  Octave,  with  a  bow.  "If  only  you 
could  have  persuaded  the  gentleman  to  grant  me  a  sight  of 
his  private  secretary,  who  is  as  invisible  as  himself,  between 
them  they  might  arrange  to  give  me  an  interview." 

"You  must  not  be  annoyed  with  him,"  said  Monsieur  dc 
1'Estorade.  "Though  his  office  is  not  strictly  political,  Ras- 
tignac  has,  of  course,  been  much  taken  up  with  election  mat- 
ters. Now  that  he  is  freer,  we  will,  if  you  like,  call  on  him 
together  one  morning." 


312  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"I  hesitate  to  trouble  you  about  a  matter  that  ought  to 
go  smoothly  of  itself ;  I  am  not  asking  a  favor.  I  never  will 
ask  one  of  this  Government ;  but  since  Monsieur  de  Rastignac 
is  the  dragon  in  charge  of  the  metallic  treasures  of  the  soil, 
I  am  bound  to  go  through  the  regular  channel  and  apply 
to  him." 

"We  can  settle  all  that,  and  I  have  started  the  thing  in  the 
right  direction,"  replied  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 

Then,  to  change  the  conversation,  he  said  to  Madame  de 
Camps : 

"Well,  and  the  chalet,  is  it  really  such  a  marvel  ?" 

"Oh,"  said  Madame  Octave,  "it  is  a  fascinating  place;  you 
can  have  no  idea  of  such  elegant  perfection  and  such  ideal 
comfort." 

"And  Marie-Gaston  ?"  asked  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  much 
as  Orgon  asks,  "And  Tartuffe?" — but  with  far  less  anxious 
curiosity. 

"He  was — I  will  not  say  quite  calm,"  replied  Madame  de 
1'Estorade,  "but  certainly  quite  master  of  himself.  His  be- 
havior was  all  the  more  satisfactory  because  the  day  began 
with  a  serious  disappointment." 

"What  happened  ?"  asked  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 

"Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  could  not  come  with  him,"  cried 
Nai's,  making  it  her  business  to  reply. 

She  was  one  of  those  children  brought  up  in  a  hot-house 
who  intervene  rather  oftener  than  they  ought  in  matters  that 
are  discussed  in  their  presence. 

"Nai's,"  said  her  mother,  "go  and  ask  Mary  to  put  your 
hair  up." 

The  child  perfectly  understood  that  she  was  sent  away  to 
her  English  nurse  for  having  spoken  out  of  season,  and  she 
went  off  with  a  little  pout. 

"This  morning,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  as  soon  as 
Nai's  had  closed  the  door,  "Monsieur  Marie-Gaston  and  Mon- 
eieur  de  Sallenauve  were  to  have  set  out  together  for  Ville- 
d'Avray,  to  receive  us  there,  as. had  been  arranged;  last  even- 
ing they  had  a  visit  from  the  organist  who  was  so  active  in 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  313 

promoting  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  election — he  came  to 
hear  the  Italian  housekeeper  sing  and  decide  as  to  whether 
she  were  fit  to  appear  in  public." 

"To  be  sure  !"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade.  "Now  we  have 
ceased  to  make  statues,  we  must  quarter  her  somewhere !" 

"As  you  say/'  answered  his  wife,  rather  tartly.  "Mon- 
sieur de  Sallenauve,  to  silence  slander,  was  anxious  to  enable 
her  to  follow  out  her  own  idea  of  going  on  the  stage;  but  he 
wished  first  to  have  the  opinion  of  a  judge  who  is  said  to  be 
remarkably  competent.  The  two  gentlemen  went  with  the 
organist  to  Saint-Sulpice,  where  the  handsome  Italian  sings 
every  evening  in  the  services  for  the  month  of  Mary.  After 
hearing  her :  'That  contralto  has  at  least  sixty  thousand  francs 
in  her  throat !'  the  organist  remarked." 

"Just  the  income  I  derive  from  my  forges !"  remarked 
Octave  de  Camps. 

"On  returning  home,"  Madame  de  1'Estorade  went  on, 
"Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  told  his  housekeeper  of  the  opinion 
pronounced  on  her  performance,  and  with  the  utmost  cir- 
cumspection he  insinuated  that  she  must  now  soon  be  think- 
ing of  making  her  living,  as  she  always  intended.  'Yes,  I 
think  the  time  is  come,'  said  Signora  Luigia.  Then  she  closed 
the  conversation,  saying,  'We  will  speak  of  it  again.' — This 
morning  at  breakfast  they  were  much  surprised  at  having  seen 
nothing  of  the  Signora,  who  was  habitually  an  early  riser. 
Fancying  she  must  be  ill,  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  sent  a  wo- 
man who  comes  to  do  the  coarser  cleaning  to  knock  at  her 
door.  No  answer.  More  and  more  anxious,  the  two  gentle- 
men went  themselves  to  find  out  what  was  happening. 

"After  knocking  and  calling  in  vain,  they  determined  to 
turn  the  key  and  go  in.  In  the  room — nobody ;  but  instead,  a 
letter  addressed  to  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve.  In  this  letter 
the  Italian  said  that,  knowing  herself  to  be  in  his  way,  she 
was  retiring  to  the  house  of  a  woman  she  knew,  and  thanked 
him  for  all  his  kindness  to  her." 

"The  bird  had  felt  its  wings !"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 
"It  had  flown  away." 


314  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"That  was  not  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  idea,"  said  the 
Countess.  "He  does  not  for  an  instant  suspect  her  of  an  im- 
pulse of  ingratitude. — Before  explaining  to  the  meeting  of 
voters  the  relation  in  which  they  stood,  Monsieur  de  Salle- 
nauve, having  ascertained  that  he  would  be  questioned  about 
it,  had  with  great  delicacy  written  to  ask  her  whether  this 
public  avowal  would  not  be  too  painful  to  her.  She  replied 
that  she  left  it  entirely  to  him.  At  the  same  time,  he  noticed 
on  his  return  that  she  was  out  of  spirits,  and  treated  him  with 
more  than  usual  formality;  whence  he  now  concludes  that, 
fancying  herself  a  burden  to  him,  in  one  of  those  fits  of  folly 
and  temper  of  which  she  is  peculiarly  capable,  she  has  thought 
it  incumbent  on  her  to  leave  his  house  without  allowing  him 
in  any  way  to  concern  himself  with  providing  for  her  in  the 
future." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  "luck  go  with 
her ! — A  good  riddance." 

"'Neither  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  nor  Monsieur  Marie- 
Gaston  takes  such  a  stoical  view  of  the  matter.  Knowing 
the  woman's  determined  and  headstrong  nature,  they  fear 
lest  she  should  have  laid  violent  hands  on  her  life — an  idea 
which  her  previous  history  justifies.  Or  else  they  fear  that 
she  has  been  ill  advised.  The  under-servant  I  mentioned  had 
observed  that  while  the  gentlemen  were  in  the  country, 
Signora  Luigia  two  or  three  times  had  a  mysterious  visitor 
in  the  person  of  a  middle-aged  lady,  handsomely  dressed, 
who  came  in  a  carriage,  but  whose  appearance  was  singular, 
and  who  made  a  great  show  of  secrecy  about  their  inter- 
views." 

"Some  charitable  visitor,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade, 
"since  the  runaway  is  one  of  the  very  devout." 

"At  any  rate,  that  must  be  ascertained ;  and  it  was  to  dis- 
cover what  has  become  of  the  luckless  creaiure  that  Monsieur 
de  Sallenauve,  by  Monsieur  Marie-Gaston's  earnest  desire, 
spent  the  day  in  the  search  instead  of  accompanying  him  to 
Ville-d'Avray. 

"I  adhere  to  my  opinion,"  replied  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  315 

"And  in  spite  of  immaculate  virtue  on  both  sides,  I  maintain 
that  he  has  been  caught  by  her." 

"At  any  rate/'  remarked  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  emphasiz- 
ing the  word,  "it  does  not  geem  that  she  has  been  caught." 

"I  do  not  agree  with  you,"  said  Madame  de  Camps.  "Fly- 
ing from  a  person  is  often  a  proof  of  very  true  love." 

Madame  de  1'Estorade  looked  at  her  friend  with  some  vexa- 
tion, and  a  faint  color  flushed  her  cheeks.  But  this  no  one 
noticed,  the  servant  having  thrown  the  double  doors  open  and 
announced  that  dinner  was  served. 

After  dinner,  they  proposed  to  go  to  the  play ;  it  is  one  of 
the  amusements  that  Parisians  most  miss  in  the  country; 
and  Monsieur  Octave  de  Camps,  whose  odious  ironworks,  as 
Madame  de  1'Estorade  called  them,  had  made  him  a  sort  of 
"Wild  Man  of  the  Woods,"  had  come  to  town  eager  for  this 
diversion,  for  which  his  wife,  a  serious  and  stay-at-home  wo- 
man, was  far  from  sharing  his  taste. 

So  when  Monsieur  de  Camps  spoke  of  going  to  the  Porte 
Saint-Martin  to  see  a  fairy  piece  that  was  attracting  all  Paris, 
his  wife  replied: 

"Neither  I  nor  Madame  de  1'Estorade  have  any  wish  to 
go  out.  We  are  very  tired  with  our  expedition,  and  will  give 
up  our  places  to  Na'is  and  Rene,  who  will  enjoy  the  marvels 
of  the  Rose-fairy  far  more  than  we  should." 

The  two  children  awaited  the  ratification  of  this  plan  with 
such  anxiety  as  may  be  imagined.  Their  mother  made  no 
objection ;  and  thus,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  two  ladies,  who 
since  Madame  de  Camps'  arrival  in  Paris  had  not  once  been 
able  to  escape  from  their  surroundings  for  a  single  chat, 
found  themselves  left  to  an  evening  of  confidential  talk. 

"Xot  at  home  to  anybody,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade  to 
Lucas,  when  the  party  were  fairly  off. 

Then,  taking  as  her  starting-point  the  last  words  spoken 
by  Madame  de  Camps  before  dinner: 

"You  really  have,  my  dear  friend,"  said  she,  "a  stock  of 
the  sharpest  little  arrows,  which  go  as  straight  to  their  mark  as 
BO  many  darts." 


316  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Now  that  we  are  alone,"  replied  Madame  Octave,  "I  am 
going  to  deal  you  blows  with  a  bludgeon;  for,  as  you  may 
suppose,  I  have  not  traveled  two  hundred  leagues  and  aban- 
doned the  care  of  our  business,  which  Monsieur  de  Camps 
has  trained  me  to  manage  very  competently  when  he  is  absent, 
only  to  tell  you  sugared  truths." 

"I  am  willing  to  hear  anything  from  you,"  said  Madame 
de  1'Estorade,  pressing  her  friend's  hand — her  dear  conscience- 
keeper,  as  she  called  her. 

"Your  last  letter  simply  frightened  me." 

"Why?  Because  I  myself  told  you  that  this  man  fright- 
ened me,  and  that  I  would  find  some  means  of  keeping  him 
at  a  distance?" 

"Yes.  Until  then  I  had  doubted  what  my  advice  ought 
to  be;  but  from  that  moment  I  became  so  uneasy  about  you, 
that,  in  spite  of  all  Monsieur  de  Camps'  objections  to  my 
making  the  journey,  I  was  determined  to  come — and  here  I 
am." 

"But.  I  assure  you,  I  do  not  understand " 

"Well,  supposing  Monsieur  de  Camps,  Monsieur  Marie- 
Gaston — or  even  Monsieur  de  Eastignac,  though  his  visits  in- 
toxicate your  husband  with  delight — were  either  of  them  to 
get  into  the  habit  of  calling,  would  it  disturb  you  as  much?" 

"No,  certainly  not;  but  neither  of  these  men  has  any  such 
claim  on  me  as  this  man  has." 

"Do  you  believe,  tell  me  truly,  that  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve 
is  in  love  with  you?" 

"Xo.  I  believe,  I  am  perfectly  certain,  that  he  is  not; 
but  I  also  believe  that  on  my  part " 

"We  will  come  to  that  presently.  What  I  want  io  know 
now  is  whether  you  wish  that  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  should 
fall  in  love  with  you?" 

"God  forbid !" 

"Well,  an  excellent  way  of  drawing  him  to  your  heel  is 
to  hurt  his  conceit,  to  be  unjust  and  ungrateful — to  compel 
him,  in  short,  to  think  about  you." 

"But  is  not  that  a  rather  far-fetched  notion,  my  dear  ?" 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  317 

"Why,  my  dear  child,  have  you  never  observed  that  men, 
if  they  have  any  subtlety  of  feeling,  are  more  readily  caught 
hy  severity  than  by  softness;  that  we  plant  ourselves  most 
solidly  in  their  minds  by  a  stern  attitude;  that  they  are  very 
like  those  little  lap-dogs  who  never  want  to  bite  till  you 
snatch  away  your  hand  ?" 

"If  that  were  the  case,  every  man  we  scorn  and  never  even 
think  of  glancing  at  would  be  a  lover!" 

"Now,  my  dear,  do  not  put  nonsense  into  my  mouth.  It 
is  self-evident  that  in  order  to  catch  fire  a  man  must  be  pre- 
disposed to  combustion;  that,  to  go  to  a  man's  head  there 
must  be  some  beginnings  of  a  fancy  on  both  sides;  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  between  you  and  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve 
there  has  been  ample  introduction  !  Though  he  may  not  love 
you,  he  loves  your  semblance ;  and,  as  you  said  the  other  day, 
wittily  enough,  what  is  there  to  prevent  him,  now  that  the 
other  is  evidently  lost  beyond  recall,  from  a  ricochet  into  love 
for  you?" 

"But,  on  the  contrary,  he  has  better  hopes  than  ever  of 
finding  the  lady,  by  the  help  of  a  very  clever  seeker  who  is 
making  inquiry." 

"Well  and  good ;  but  supposing  he  should  not  find  her  for 
a  long  time  to  come,  are  you  to  spend  the  time  in  getting  him 
on  your  hands  ?" 

"Dear  Dame  Morality,  I  do  not  at  all  accept  your  theory, 
at  any  rate  so  far  as  he  is  concerned:  he  will  be  very  busy; 
he  will  be  far  more  devoted  to  the  Chamber  than  to  me;  he 
is  a  man  of  high  self-respect,  who  would  be  disgusted  by  such 
mean  behavior  on  my  part,  and  think  it  supremely  unjust  and 
ungrateful ;  and  if  I  try  to  put  two  feet  of  distance  between 
us,  he  will  put  four,  you  may  be  quite  certain." 

"But  you,  my  dear?"  said  her  friend. 

"How— I  ?" 

"Yes — you  who  are  not  so  busy,  who  have  not  the  Cham- 
ber to  absorb  you,  who  have — I  will  allow — plenty  of  self- 
respect,  but  who  know  as  much  about  affairs  of  the  heart  as 
a  school-girl  or  a  wet-nurse — what  is  to  become  of  }'ou  under 
the  perilous  regimen  you  propose  to  follow?" 


318  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"I ! — If  I  do  not  love  him  when  I  see  him,  I  shall  still  less 
love  him  when  he  is  absent." 

"So  that  if  you  found  him  accepting  this  ostracism  with 
indifference,  your  woman's  pride  would  not  be  in  the  least 
shocked  ?" 

"Of  course  not ;  it  is  that  I  aim  at." 

"And  supposing,  on  the  other  hand,  that  he  complains  of 
your  behavior,  or  without  complaining,  suffers  acutely,  will 
your  conscience  have  really  nothing  to  say  to  you?" 

"It  will  say  that  I  have  acted  for  the  best — that  I  could  not 
do  otherwise." 

"And  if  his  success  is  so  great  that  it  comes  to  your  ears, 
if  his  name  fills  all  the  hundred  mouths  of  Fame,  you  will 
still  forget  his  existence?" 

"I  shall  think  of  him  as  I  do  of  Monsieur  Thiers  or  Mon- 
sieur Berryer." 

"And  Nai's,  who  dreams  only  of  him,  and  who  will  say 
even  more  emphatically  than  on  the  day  when  he  first  dined 
with  you,  'How  well  he  talks,  mamma  !' ': 

"Oh  !  if  you  take  a  child's  silly  chatter  into  account " 

"And  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  who  annoys  you  already 
when,  in  his  blind  devotion  to  party  spirit,  he  utters  some  ill- 
natured  insinuation  about  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve — will  you 
silence  him  on  every  occasion  when  he  is  perpetually  talking 
about  this  man,  denying  his  talents,  his  public  spirit  ? — You 
know  the  verdict  men  always  pronounce  on  those  who  do  not 
agree  with  their  opinions." 

"In  short,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  "you  mean  to  say 
that  I  shall  never  be  so  much  tempted  to  think  of  him  as 
when  he  has  gone  quite  out  of  my  ken  ?" 

"What  has  happened  to  you  once,  my  dear,  when  he  fol- 
lowed you  about,  and  his  sudden  disappearance  surprised  you, 
like  the  silence  when  a  drum  that  has  been  deafening  you  for 
an  hour  on  end  abruptly  stops  its  clatter." 

"In  that  there  was  reason.     His  absence  upset  a  plan." 

"Listen  to  me,  my  dear,"  said  Madame  de  Camps  gravely ; 
"I  have  read  and  re-read  your  letters.  In  them  you  were  more 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  319 

natural  and  less  argumentative;  and  they  left  me  one  clear 
impression — that  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  had  certainly 
touched  your  heart  if  he  had  not  invaded  it." 

At  a  gesture  of  denial  from  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  her 
strenuous  Mentor  went  on: 

"I  know  you  have  fortified  yourself  against  such  a  notion. 
And  how  could  you  admit  to  me  what  you  have  so  carefully 
concealed  from  yourself  ?_  But  the  thing  that  is,  is.  You 
cannot  feel  the  magnetic  influence  of  a  man;  you  cannot  be 
aware  of  his  gaze — even  without  meeting  his  eyes;  you  can- 
not exclaim,  'You  see,  madame,  I  am  invulnerable  to  love,' 
without  having  been  more  or  less  hit  already." 

"But  so  many  things  have  happened  since  I  wrote  those 
preposterous  things !" 

"It  is  true,  he  was  only  a  sculptor,  and  now,  in  the  course 
of  time,  he  may  possibly  be  in  the  Ministry,  like — I  will  not 
say  Monsieur  de  Rastignac,  for  that  is  not  saying  much,  but 
like  Canalis  the  great  poet." 

"I  like  a  sermon  to  have  some  conclusion,"  said  Madame 
de  1'Estorade  pettishly. 

"You  say  to  me,"  replied  Madame  de  Camps,  "exactly  what 
Vergniaud  said  to  Eobespierre  on  the  31st  of  May,  for  in  the 
solitude  of  our  wilderness  I  have  been  reading  the  history  of 
the  French  Revolution ;  and  I  reply  in  Robespierre's  words, 
'Yes,  I  am  coming  to  the  conclusion' — a  conclusion  against 
your  pride  as  a  woman,  who  having  reached  the  age  of  two- 
and-thirty  without  suspecting  what  love  might  be  even  in 
married  life,  cannot  admit  that  at  so  advanced  an  age  she 
should  yield  to  the  universal  law;  against  the  memory  of 
all  your  sermons  to  Louise  de  Chaulieu,  proving  to  her  that 
there  is  no  misfortune  so  great  as  a  passion  that  captures  the 
heart — very  much  as  if  you  were  to  argue  that  an  inflammation 
of  the  lungs  was  the  worst  imprudence  a  sick  man  could 
commit;  against  your  appalling  ignorance,  which  conceives 
that  merely  saying  '/  will  not'  in  a  resolute  tone  is  stronger 
than  an  inclination  complicated  by  a  concurrence  of  circum- 
stances from  which  the  cleverest  woman,  my  cousin  tho 


320  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Princesse  de  Cadignan  let  us  say,  could  scarcely  shake  herself 
free." 

"But  the  practical  conclusion  ?"  said  Madame  de  FEstorade, 
impatiently  patting  her  knee  with  her  pretty  hand. 

"My  conclusion  is  this,"  replied  her  friend.  "I  do  not 
really  see  any  danger  of  your  drowning  unless  you  are  so 
foolish  as  to  try  to  stem  the  stream.  You  are  firm-tempered, 
you  have  good  principles,  and  are  religious;  you  worship 
your  children,  and  for  their  sakes  you  esteem  their  father  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade,  who  has  now  for  more  than  fifteen  years 
been  the  companion  of  your  life.  With  so  much  ballast  you 
will  not  upset,  and,  believe  me,  you  are  well  afloat." 

"Well,  then  ?"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade. 

"Well,  then,  there  is  no  necessity  for  violent  efforts,  with 
very  doubtful  results,  in  my  opinion,  to  preserve  an  unmoved 
attitude  under  impossible  conditions,  when  you  have  already 
to  a  great  extent  abandoned  it.  You  are  quite  sure  that 
Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  will  never  think  of  inviting  you  to 
take  a  step  further;  you  have  said  that  he  is  leagues  away 
from  thinking  of  such  a  thing.  Keep  still  then  where  you 
are;  make  no  barricades  when  nobody  it  attacking  you;  do 
not  excite  yourself  over  a  useless  defence  which  would  only 
involve  you  in  painful  tempests  of  feeling  and  conscience, 
while  endeavoring  to  pacify  your  conscience  and  bring  peace 
to  your  heart  just  rippled  by  a  breath  of  wind. 

"The  bond  of  friendship  between  man  and  woman  always, 
no  doubt,  bears  some  hue  of  the  usually  warmer  sentiments 
that  exist  between  the  two  sexes;  but  it  is  not  a  mere  empty 
illusion,  nor  an  ever-yawning  gulf.  If  Louise  de  Chaulieu 
and  her  adorable  first  husband  had  lived,  were  you  not  already 
on  such  a  footing  of  intimacy  with  him  as  never  existed  be- 
tween you  and  any  other  man?  And  now,  with  her  second 
husband,  Monsieur  Marie-Gaston,  are  you  not  on  quite  ex- 
ceptional terms  in  memory  of  the  friend  you  have  lost  ?  And 
even  with  the  escort  of  your  little  girl,  my  husband,  and  my- 
self, would  you  have  thought  of  paying  the  kindly  visit  we 
carried  out  to-day  to  {ho  first  comer,  just  anybody,  without 
some  previous  knowledge  and  recommendation  ?" 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  321 

"Then  I  am  to  make  a  friend  of  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  ?" 
said  Madame  de  1'Estorade  pensively. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  to  save  yourself  from  his  becoming  a  fixed 
idea — a  regret — a  remorse — three  things  which  poison  life." 

"With  the  world  looking  on;  with  my  husband,  who  has 
already  had  one  fit  of  jealousy !" 

"My  dear,  you  may  compromise  yourself  just  as  much  or 
more  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  by  your  efforts  to  mislead  it  as 
by  the  liberty  you  frankly  allow  yourself.  Do  not  imagine, 
for  instance,  that  your  abrupt  departure  last  evening  from 
the  Rastignacs',  in  order  to  avoid  any  discussion  of  your  obli- 
gations to  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve,  can  have  escaped  observa- 
tion. And  would  not  calmer  demeanor  have  more  effectually 
disguised  the  sense  of  indebtedness  which  you  displayed,  on 
the  contrary,  by  so  much  agitation?" 

"In  that  you  are  quite  right. — But  some  people's  impu- 
dence when  they  talk  has  the  gift  of  putting  me  beside  my- 
self  " 

"Your  husband  is,  I  think,  somewhat  altered,  and  not  for 
the  better.  What  used  to  be  attractive  in  him  was  the  per- 
fect respect,  the  unlimited  deference  he  showed  for  your  per- 
son, your  ideas,  your  impressions,  everything  about  you ;  that 
sort  of  dog-like  submissiveness  gave  him  a  dignity  he  had  no 
idea  of,  for  there  is  real  greatness  in  knowing  how  to  obey 
and  to  admire.  I  may  be  mistaken,  but  I  think  politics 
have  spoilt  him ;  as  you  cannot  fill  his  seat  in  the  Upper 
Chamber,  it  has  dawned  on  his  mind  that  he  could  quite 
well  live  without  you.  In  your  place  I  should  keep  a  sharp 
eye  on  such  fancies  for  independence;  and  since  this  ques- 
tion is  the  order  of  the  day,  I  should  make  it  a  cabinet 
question  on  the  point  of  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve." 

"But  do  you  know,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Madame  de 
1'Estorade,  laughing,  "that  you  are  delightfully  pestilential, 
and  that  if  I  acted  on  your  advice  I  should  bring  down  fire  and 
sword?" 

"Not  at  all,  my  child;  I  am  simply  a  woman  of  five-and- 
forty,  who  has  always  looked  on  things  in  their  practical 


322  TEE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

aspect ;  and  I  did  not  marry  my  husband,  to  whom  I  am  pas- 
sionately attached,  till  I  was  well  assured,  by  putting  him 
to  a  severe  test,  that  he  also  was  worthy  of  my  esteem.  It  is 
not  I  who  make  life  what  it  is ;  I  take  it  as  I  find  it,  trying  to 
bring  order  and  possibility  into  the  incidents  that  may  occur. 
I  am  not  frantic  passion  like  Louise  de  Chaulieu,  nor  am  I 
exaggerated  good  sense  like  Renee  de  1'Estorade.  I  am  a 
sort  of  Jesuit  in  petticoats,  convinced  that  rather  wide  sleeves 
are  more  serviceable  than  sleeves  that  are  too  tight  about  the 
wrists;  and  I  never  set  my  heart  on  the  Quest  of  the  Abso- 
lute." 

At  this  moment  Lucas  opened  the  drawing-room  door  and 
announced  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve.  As  his  mistress  gave 
the  old  man  a  look  as  much  as  to  ask  him  how  he  dared 
take  so  little  account  of  her  orders,  Lucas  replied  with  a 
shrug,  Avhich  seemed  to  say  that  this  visitor  was  an  article 
he  could  not  have  supposed  would  be  included  in  the  code  of 
prohibition. 

As  Sallenauve  took  his  seat  in  a  chair  the  man  pushed  for- 
ward for  him : 

"You  see,"  Madame  de  Camps  whispered  to  her  friend, 
"the  servants  even  have  an  instinctive  idea  that  he  is  not 
a  mere  anybody" 

Madame  de  Camps,  who  had  never  met  the  new  deputy, 
devoted  her  whole  attention  to  studying  him,  and  saw  no 
reason  to  repent  of  preaching  that  he  was  not  to  be  outraged. 
Sallenauve  accounted  for  his  visit  by  his  anxious  curiosity 
to  know  how  matters  had  gone  off  at  Ville-d'Avray ;  if  he 
should  hear  that  Marie-Gaston  had  been  too  much  upset,  he 
was  quite  prepared,  though  it  was  already  late,  to  set  out  at 
once  and  join  him. 

As  to  the  business  that  had  occupied  his  day,  he  had  as 
yet  had  no  form  of  success.  He  had  availed  himself  of  his 
title  of  Deputy,  a  sort  of  universal  pass-key,  to  interview  the 
prefect  of  police,  who  had  referred  him  to  Monsieur  de  Saint - 
Esteve  of  the  detective  department.  Sallenauve,  knowing, 
as  all  Paris  knew,  the  past  history  of  this  man,  was  amazed 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  323 

to  find  him  an  official  of  good  manners.  But  the  great  detec- 
tive had  not  given  him  much  hope. 

"A  woman  hidden  in  Paris,"  said  he,  "is  literally  an  eel 
hidden  in  the  deepest  hole." 

He  himself,  with  the  help  of  Jacques  Bricheteau,  meant 
to  continue  the  search  during  the  whole  of  the  next  day; 
but  if,  by  the  evening,  neither  he  nor  the  great  official  in- 
quisitor had  discovered  anything,  he  was  determined  to  go 
then  to  Ville-d'Avray  to  be  with  Marie-Gaston,  concerning 
whom  he  was  far  more  uneasy  than  Madame  de  1'Estorade 
was. 

As  he  said  good-night,  before  the  return  of  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade  and  Monsieur  de  Camps — who  was  to  call  for  his 
wife : 

"Do  not  forget,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  "that  NaiV 
party  is  on  the  evening  after  to-morrow.  You  will  offend  her 
mortally  if  you  fail  to  appear.  Try  to  persuade  Marie^ 
Gaston  to  come  with  you ;  it  will  be  a  little  diversion  at  any 
rate." 

On  coming  in  from  the  theatre,  Monsieur  Octave  de 
Camps  declared  that  it  would  be  many  a  long  day  before  he 
would  ever  go  to  another  fairy  extravaganza.  N"ai's,  on  the 
contrary,  still  bewitched  by  the  marvels  she  had  seen,  began 
to  give  an  eager  report  of  the  play,  which  showed  how  deeply 
it  had  struck  her  young  imagination. 

As  Madame  de  Camps  went  away  with  her  husband,  she 
remarked : 

"That  little  girl  would  make  me  very  anxious ;  she  reminds 
me  of  Moi'na  d'Aiglemont.  Madame  de  FEstorade  has 
brought  her  on  too  fast,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  in 
the  future  she  gave  them  some  trouble." 

It  is  difficult  to  fix  the  exact  date  in  the  history  of  modern 
manners,  when  a  sort  of  new  religion  had  its  rise  which  may 
be  called  the  worship  of  children.  NOT  would  it  be  any  easier 
to  determine  what  the  influence  was  under  which  this  cultus 
acquired  the  extensive  vogue  it  has  now  attained.  But  while 


324  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

it  remains  inexplicable,  the  fact  exists,  and  must  be  recorded 
by  every  faithful  chronicler  of  the  greater  and  minor  impulses 
of  social  life. 

Children  now  fill  the  place  in  the  family  which  was  held 
among  the  ancients  by  the  household  gods;  and  the  individual 
who  should  fail  to  share  this  devotion  would  be  thought  not 
so  much  a  fractious  and  cross-grained  person,  perverse  and 
contradictory,  as  simply  an  atheist.  The  influence  of  Kous- 
seau,  however — who  for  a  while  persuaded  all  mothers  to 
suckle  their  infants — has  now  died  out;  still,  he  must  be 
a  superficial  observer  who  would  find  a  contradiction  in  this 
to  the  next  remark.  Any  one  who  has  ever  been  present  at  the 
tremendous  deliberations  held  over  the  choice  of  a  wet  nurse 
to  live  in  the  house,  and  understood  the  position  this  queen 
of  the  nursery  at  once  takes  up  in  the  arrangements  of  the 
household,  may  be  quite  convinced  that  the  mother's  renun- 
ciation of  her  rights  is  on  her  part  only  the  first  of  many  acts 
of  devotion  and  self-sacrifice.  The  doctor  and  the  accoucheur, 
whom  she  does  not  try  to  influence,  declare  that  she  is  not 
equal  to  the  task;  and  it  js  an  understood  thing  that,  solely 
for  the  sake  of  the  being  she  has  brought  into  the  world,  she 
resigns  herself  to  the  inevitable.  But,  then,  having  secured 
for  the  child  what  schoolmasters  describe  as  excellent  and 
abundant  board,  what  frantic  care  and  anxiety  surround  it ! 
How  often  is  the  doctor  called  up  at  night  to  certify  that  the 
mildest  indigestion  is  not  an  attack  of  much-dreaded  croup ! 
How  often  is  he  snatched  away  from  the  bedside  of  the  dying, 
and  urgently  plied  with  agonized  questions  by  a  mother  in 
tears,  who  fancies  that  her  cherub  looks  peeky  or  pasty,  or 
has  not  soiled  its  napkins  quite  as  usual ! 

At  last  the  baby  has  got  over  this  first  difficult  stage;  re- 
leased from  the  wet  nurse's  arms,  it  no  longer  wears  a  Henri 
IV.  hat,  bedizened  with  plumes  and  tufts  like  an  Andalusian 
mule ;  but  then  the  child,  and  its  companions,  still  remind  us 
of  Spain :  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  and  arrayed  in  white,  they 
might  be  taken  for  young  statues  of  the  Commendatore  in  the 
opera  of  Don  Giovanni.  Others,  reminding  us  of  Walter 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  325 

Scott  and  the  "White  Lady,"  look  as  if  they  had  come  down 
from  the  Highlands,  of  which  they  display  the  costume — the 
short  jacket  and  bare  knees. 

More  often  the  sweet  idols  supply  in  their  dress  what  M. 
Ballanche  would  have  called  a  palingenesis  of  national  his- 
tory. As  we  see,  in  the  Tuileries,  hair  cut  square  a  la  Charles 
VI.,  the  velvet  doublets,  lace  and  embroidered  collars,  the 
Cavalier  hats,  short  capes,  ruffles  and  shoes  with  roses,  of 
Louis  XIII.  and  Louis  XIV.,  we  can  go  through  a  course  of 
French  history  related  by  tailors  and  dressmakers  with 
stricter  exactitude  than  by  Mezeray  and  President  Renault. 

Next  come  anxieties,  if  not  as  to  the  health,  at  any  rate  as  to 
the  constitution  of  our  little  household  gods — for  they  are 
always  so  delicate;  and  to  strengthen  them,  a  journey  every 
year  to  the  sea,  or  the  country,  or  the  Pyrenees,  is  impera- 
tively ordered.  And,  of  course,  during  the  five  or  six  months 
spent  by  the  mother  in  these  hygienic  wanderings,  the  hus- 
band, if  he  is  detained  in  Paris,  must  make  the  best  of  his 
widowhood,  of  his  empty  and  dismantled  house,  and  the  up- 
heaval of  all  his  habits. 

Winter,  however,  brings  the  family  home  again;  but  do 
you  suppose  that  these  precious  darlings,  puffed  up  with  pre- 
cocity and  importance,  can  be  amused,  like  the  children  born 
in  the  ages  of  heartless  infanticide,  with  rattles,  dolls,  and 
twopenny  Punches  ?  What  next,  indeed !  The  boys  must 
have  ponies,  cigarettes,  and  novels;  the  little  girls  must  be 
allowed  to  play  on  a  grand  scale  at  being  grown-up  mistress 
of  the  house ;  they  give  afternoon  dances,  and  evening  parties 
with  the  genuine  Guignol  puppets  from  the  Champs-filysees, 
or  Robert  Houdin  promised  on  the  invitation  card;  nor  are 
these  like  Lambert  and  Moliere,  you  may  depend  on  it;  once 
on  the  programme,  they  are  secured. 

Finally,  now  and  again  these  little  autocrats,  like  Na'is  de 
1'Estorade,  get  leave  to  give  a  party  on  a  sufficiently  grown-up 
scale  to  make  it  necessary  to  engage  a  few  police  to  guard 
the  door;  while  at  Nattier's,  at  Delisle's,  and  at  Prevost's 
the  event  casts  its  shadow  before  in  the  purchase  of  silks, 


326  THE  MEMBER  FOR  AROIS 

artificial  flowers,  and  real  bouquets  for  the  occasion.  From 
what  we  have  seen  of  Xais,  it  will  be  understood  that  no  one 
was  more  capable  than  she  of  filling  the  part  and  the  duties 
that  devolved  on  her  by  her  mother's  temporary  abdication 
in  her  favor  of  all  her  power  and  authority. 

This  abdication  had  dated  from  some  days  before  the  even- 
ing now  arrived;  for  it  was  Mademoiselle  Nai's  de  1'Estorade 
who,  in  her  own  name,  had  requested  the  guests  to  do  her 
the  honor  of  spending  the  evening  with  her ;  and  as  Madame 
de  FEstorade  would  not  carry  the  parody  to  such  a  length  as 
to  allow  the  cards  to  be  printed,  Nai's  had  spent  several  days 
in  writing  these  invitations,  taking  care  to  add  in  the  corner 
the  sacramental  formula  'Dancing." 

Nothing  could  be  stranger,  or,  as  Madame  Octave  de 
Camps  would  have  said,  more  alarming  than  the  perfect  cool- 
ness of  this  little  girl  of  thirteen,  standing,  as  she  had  seen 
her  mother  do  on  similar  occasions,  at  the  drawing-room  door, 
and  toning  the  warmth  of  her  welcome  to  the  finest  shades 
as  she  received  her  guests,  from  the  most  affectionate  cor- 
diality to  a  coolness  verging  on  disdain.  With  her  bosom 
friends  she  warmly  shook  hands  a  I'Anglaise;  for  others,  she 
had  smiles  graduated  for  different  degrees  of  intimacy ;  a  bow 
or  nod  to  those  whom  she  did  not  know  or  care  for;  and 
from  time  to  time  the  most  amusing  little  motherly  air  and 
pet  words  for  the  tiny  ones  who  are  necessarily  included  in 
these  juvenile  routs,  difficult  and  perilous  as  such  company  is 
to  manage. 

To  the  fathers  and  mothers  of  her  guests,  as  the  party  was 
not  given  for  them,  and  she  was  acting  strictly  on  the  Evan- 
gelical precept,  Sinite  parvulos  venire  ad  me,  Nais  aimed  at 
distant  but  respectful  politeness.  But  when  Lucas,  reversing 
the  usual  order  of  things,  in  obedience  to  her  instructions, 
announced,  "Mesdemoiselles  de  la  Eoche-Hugon,  Madame  la 
Baronne  de  la  Eoche-Hugon,  and  Madame  la  Comtesse  de 
Eastignac,"  the  cunning  little  puss  abandoned  this  studied 
reserve ;  she  rushed  forward  to  meet  the  Minister's  wife,  and, 
with  the  prettiest  possible  grace,  she  seized  her  hand  and 
kissed  it. 


Monsieur  and  Madame  de  1'Estorade  also  pressed  forward 
to  welcome  their  unexpected  visitor;  and  without  allowing 
her  to  make  any  apology  as  to  the  liberty  she  had  taken  in 
coming  with  her  sister-in-law  without  an  invitation,  they  led 
her  to  a  good  seat,  whence  she  could  have  a  complete  view  of 
the  proceedings,  by  this  time  of  a  very  lively  character. 

Na'is  could  not  accept  every  invitation  to  dance  which  the 
elegant  little  dandies  vied  with  each  other  in  pressing  on  her, 
and,  indeed,  she  got  a  little  confused  over  the  order  of  her 
engagements.  In  spite  of  the  famous  "entente  cordiale"  her 
heedlessness  was  near  causing  a  revival  of  the  perennial 
rivalry  of  France  and  perfidious  Albion.  A, quadrille  prom- 
ised twice  over,  to  a  young  English  nobleman,  aged  ten,  and 
a  boy  from  a  preparatory  naval  school — Barniol's  school — 
was  about  to  result  in  something  more  than  railing  accusa- 
tions, for  the  young  heir  to  the  English  peerage  had  already 
doubled  his  fist  in  attitude  to  box. 

This  squabble  being  settled,  another  disaster  befel :  a  very 
small  boy,  seeing  the  servant  bring  in  a  tray  of  cakes  and  cool- 
ing drinks  after  a  polka,  which  had  made  him  very  hot,  was 
anxious  to  refresh  himself;  but  as  he  was  too  short  to  reach 
the  level  at  which  the  objects  of  his  desire  were  held  by  the 
footman,  he  unfortunately  tried  clinging  to  the  rim  of  the 
tray  to  bring  it  within  reach ;  the  tray  tilted,  lost  its  balance, 
and  one  of  its  corners  serving  as  a  gutter,  there  flowed,  as 
from  the  urn  of  a  mythological  river-god,  a  sort  of  cascade  of 
mingled  orgeat,  currant-syrup,  and  capillaire,  of  which  the 
fountain-head  was  the  overturned  glasses.  It  would  have 
been  well  if  only  the  rash  infant  himself  had  suffered  from 
the  sudden  sticky  torrent ;  but  in  the  confusion  caused  by  the 
catastrophe,  ten  innocent  victims  were  severely  splashed, 
among  them  five  or  six  infant  bacchantes,  who,  enraged  at 
seeing  their  garments  stained,  seemed  ready  to  make  a  second 
Orpheus  of  the  luckless  blunderer. 

While  he  was  rescued  with  difficulty  from  their  hands,  and 
delivered  over  to  those  of  a  German  governess,  who  had  has- 
tened to  the  scene  of  the  uproar : 


328  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"What  could  Nai's  be  thinking  of,"  said  a  pretty,  fair-haired 
little  girl  to  a  youthful  Highlander  with  whom  she  had  been 
dancing  all  the  evening,  "to  invite  little  children  no  bigger 
than  that?" 

"Oh,  I  quite  understand,"  said  the  Highlander;  "he  is  a 
little  boy  belonging  to  the  Accountant  Office  people;  Nais 
was  obliged  to  ask  him  on  account  of  his  parents;  it  was  a 
matter  of  civility." 

At  the  same  time  putting  his  hand  through  a  friend's  arm : 

"I  say,  Ernest,"  he  went  on,  "I  could  smoke  a  cigar !  Sup- 
pose we  try  and  find  a  corner  out  of  all  this  riot." 

"I  cannot,  my  dear  fellow,"  replied  Ernest  mysteriously. 
"You  know  that  Leontine  always  makes  a  scene  when  she 
finds  out  that  I  have  been  smoking.  She  is  in  the  sweetest 
mood  to-night.  There,  look  what  she  has  just  given  me !" 

"A  horse-hair  ring,  with  two  flaming  hearts!"  said  the 
Highlander  scornfully.  "Why,  every  schoolboy  makes  them !" 

"Then,  pray,  what  have  you  to  show?"  retorted  Ernest, 
much  nettled. 

"Oh  !"  said  the  Highlander,  "better  than  that." 

And  with  a  consequential  air  he  took  out  of  the  sporran, 
which  formed  part  of  his  costume,  a  sheet  of  scented  blue 
paper. 

"There,"  said  he,  holding  it  under  Ernest's  nose,  "just 
smell  that." 

Ernest,  with  conspicuous  lack  of  delicacy,  snatched  at  the 
note  and  got  possession  of  it;  the  Highlander,  in  a  rage, 
struggled  to  get  it  back.  Then  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  in- 
tervened, and  having  not  the  remotest  suspicion  of  the  cause 
of  the  fray,  separated  the  combatants,  so  that  the  spoiler  could 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  crime  unmolested  in  a  corner.  The 
paper  was  blank.  The  young  rascal  had  stolen  the  sheet  of 
scented  paper  that  morning  from  his  mamma's  blotting- 
book — she  perhaps  would  have. made  some  less  immaculate 
thing  of  it. 

Ernest  presently  returned  it  to  the  Highlander: 


THE    MEMBER    FOE    ARCIS  32a 

"Here;  I  give  you  back  your  letter,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of 
derision.  "It  is  desperately  compromising !" 

"Keep  it,  sir,"  replied  the  other.  "I  will  ask  you  for  it 
to-morrow  under  the  chestnut-trees  in  the  Tuileries.  Mean- 
while, you  must  understand  that  we  can  have  nothing  more 
to  say  to  each  other !" 

Ernest's  demeanor  was  less  chivalrous.  His  only  reply 
was  to  put  the  thumb  of  his  right  hand  to  his  nose,  spreading 
his  fingers,  and  turning  an  imaginary  handle — an  ironical 
demonstration  which  he  had  learned  from  seeing  it  per- 
formed by  his  mother's  coachman.  Then  he  went  off  to  find 
his  partner  for  a  quadrille  that  was  being  formed. 

But  why  are  we  wasting  time  over  such  trivialities  when 
we  know  that  interests  of  a  superior  order  are  obscurely 
working  themselves  out  beneath  this  childish  surface? 

Sallenauve,  who  had  returned  at  about  four  in  the  after- 
noon from  spending  two  days  at  Ville-d'Avray,  could  not 
give  Madame  de  1'Estorade  a  good  report  of  his  friend. 
Under  a  mask  of  cold  resignation,  Marie-Gaston  was  in  deep 
dejection;  and  the  most  serious  cause  of  anxiety,  because  it 
was  so  unnatural,  was  that  he  had  not  yet  been  to  visit  his 
wife's  grave;  it  was  as  though  he  foresaw  the  risk  of  such 
agitation  as  he  really  dared  not  face.  This  state  of  mind 
had  so  greatly  disturbed  Sallenauve,  that,  but  for  fear  of 
really  distressing  Nai's  by  not  appearing  at  her  ball,  he  would 
not  have  left  his  friend,  who  was  by  no  means  to  be  persuaded 
to  come  to  Paris  with  him. 

It  really  seemed  as  though  Marie-Gaston  had  expended 
•his  remaining  powers  in  the  perfervid  enthusiasm  and  cheer- 
fulness to  which  he  had  wound  himself  up  during  the  Arcis 
election,  and  that  now  the  most  disastrous  prostration  had  set 
.  in  as  a  reaction  from  the  excitement  of  which  his  letters  to 
Madame  de  1'Estorade  were  but  a  faint  reflection.  One  thing, 
however,  had  made  Sallenauve  feel  that  his  patient  was  safe 
during  the  few  hours  of  his  absence ;  before  he  had  fully  de- 
cided to  come  away,  an  English  gentleman  had  been  an- 


330  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

nounced  whom  Marie-Gaston  had  known  in  Florence,  and 
whose  arrival  he  hailed  with  apparent  joy.  So  some  happy 
effect  might  perhaps  be  hoped  for  from  this  unforeseen  visit. 

To  divert  Sallenauve's  mind  from  these  anxieties — and, 
in  fact,  she  thought  them  exaggerated — Madame  de  1'Estorade 
at  once  made  him  acquainted  with  Monsieur  Octave  de 
Camps,  who  had  expressed  a  strong  wish  to  know  him;  and 
by  the  time  the  deputy  had  been  conversing  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  with  the  ironmaster,  he  had  quite  won  this  gentleman's 
good  opinion  by  the  extent  of  his  knowledge  in  metallurgy. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  one  of  Bixiou's  chief  griev- 
ances against  Dorlange  had  been  the  sculptor's  ambition,  if 
not  indeed  to  know  everything,  at  any  rate  to  examine  every- 
thing. During  the  last  year  especially  Sallenauve,  having 
spent  no  time  in  his  art  but  what  was  needed  for  the  "Saint 
Ursula,"  had  been  at  leisure  to  devote  himself  to  the  scientific 
studies  which  justify  a  parliamentary  representative  in  speak- 
ing with  authority  when  they  can  serve  to  support  or  illustrate 
his  political  views. 

Hence,  though  in  talking  to  Monsieur  Godivet,  the  Eegis- 
trar  of  Taxes  at  Arcis,  he  had  modestly  expressed  himself  as 
ignorant  of  the  details  of  that  official's  functions,  he  had 
given  his  attention  to  the  various  elements  on  which  they  bore 
— the  customs,  conveyancing-fees,  stamps,  and  direct  or  indi- 
rect taxes.  Then,  in  turning  to  the  science — so  problematical, 
and  yet  so  self-confident  that  it  has  assumed  a  name — 
Political  Economy,  Sallenauve  had  studied  with  no  less  care 
the  various  sources  which  contribute  to  form  the  mighty  river 
of  the  nation's  wealth ;  and  the  branch  of  the  subject  relating 
to  mines,  the  matter  just  now  of  preponderating  interest  to 
Monsieur  de  Camps,  had  not  been  neglected.  The  ironmaster 
had  been  so  exclusively  interested  in  the  question  of  iron  ores, 
that  he  had  much  to  learn  in  the  other  branches  of  metallurgy, 
and  his  delight  may  be  imagined  on  hearing  from  the  newly- 
made  deputy  a  sort  of  Arabian  Nights'  tale  of  the  riches  of 
the  land,  though,  certified  by  science,  there  could  be  no  doubt 
of  the  facts. 


THE    MEMBER   FOR    ARCIS  331 

"Do  you  mean,  monsieur,"  cried  Monsieur  de  Camps,  "that 
besides  our  coal  and  iron  mines  we  have  deposits  of  copper, 
lead,  and  even  of  silver?" 

"If  you  will  only  consult  some  specialist,  he  will  tell  you 
that  the  famous  mines  of  Bohemia  and  Saxony,  of  Russia  and 
of  Hungary,  are  not  to  be  compared  to  those  that  exist  in  the 
Pyrenees;  in  the  Alps  from  Briangon  to  the  Isere;  in  the 
Cevennes,  especially  about  the  Lozere;  in  the  Puy-de-D6me; 
in  Brittany  and  in  the  Vosges.  In  the  Vosges,  not  far  from 
the  town  of  Saint-Die,  I  can  tell  you  of  a  single  vein  of  silver 
ore  that  runs  with  a  width  of  from  fifty  to  eighty  metres  for  a 
distance  of  about  eight  miles." 

•  "How  is  it,  then,  that  this  mineral  wealth  has  never  been 
worked  ?" 

"It  was,  at  one  time,"  said  Sallenauve,  "at  a  distant  period, 
especially  during  the  Eoman  dominion  in  Gaul.  These  mines 
were  abandoned  at  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  but  worked 
again  during  the  Middle  Ages  by  the  clergy  and  the  lords  of 
the'  soil ;  then,  during  the  struggle  between  the  feudal  nobles 
and  the  sovereign,  and  the  long  civil  wars  which  devastated 
the  country,  the  working  was  given  up,  and  no  one  has  taken 
it  up  since." 

"And  you  are  sure  of  the  facts  ?" 

"Ancient  writers,  Strabo  and  others,  all  speak  of  these 
mines ;  the  tradition  of  their  working  survives  in  the  districts 
where  they  lie;  imperial  decrees  and  the  edicts  of  kings  bear 
witness  to  their  existence  and  to  the  value  of  their  output; 
and  in  some  places  there  is  still  more  practical  evidence  in 
excavations  of  considerable  length  and  depth,  shaft:'  and 
caverns  hewn  out  of  the  living  rock,  and  all  the  traces  which 
bear  witness  to  the  vast  undertakings  that  immortalized 
Roman  enterprise.  To  this  may  be  added  the  evidence  of 
modern  geological  science,  which  has  everywhere  confirmed 
and  amplified  these  indications." 

Monsieur  de  Camps'  imagination  had  been  sufficiently  fired 
by  the  prospects  of  a  mere  iron-mine  to  bring  him  to  Paris 
as  a  petitioner  to  a  Government  he  despised,  and  at  the  sug- 


832 

gestion  of  all  this  buried  wealth  it  positively  blazed;  he  was 
about  to  ask  his  informant  what  his  ideas  might  be  as  to  the 
process  of  extracting  the  treasure  that  was  so  strangely  neg- 
lected, when,  by  a  coincidence  for  which  the  reader  is  pre- 
pared, Lucas  threw  open  the  drawing-room  door,  and  an- 
nounced in  his  loudest  and  most  impressive  tones,  "Monsieur 
the  Minister  of  Public  Works." 

The  effect  on  the  assembly  was  electrical;  it  even  broke  in 
on  the  tete-a-tete  of  the  two  new  friends. 

"Let  us  have  a  look  at  this  little  Kastignac  who  has  blos- 
somed into  a  public  personage,"  said  Monsieur  de  Camps  dis- 
dainfully, as  he  rose. 

But  in  his  heart  it  struck  him  that  this  was  an  opportunity 
of  getting  hold  of  the  inaccessible  Minister ;  in  virtue  of  the 
sound  principle  that  a  bird  in  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush, 
he  left  the  hidden  fortune  revealed  to  him  by  Sallenauve  to 
rest  in  peace,  and  went  back  to  his  iron-mine.  Sallenauve, 
on  his  part,  foresaw  an  introduction  to  be  inevitable;  it 
seemed  to  him  impossible  but  that  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade's 
Conservative  zeal  would  contrive  to  bring  it  about. 

And  what  would  his  allies  of  the  Opposition  say  to  the 
news,  which  would  certainly  be  reported  on  the  morrow,  that 
a  representative  of  the  Extreme  Left  had  been  seen  in  a 
drawing-room  in  conversation  with  a  Minister  so  noted  for  his 
ardor  and  skill  in  making  political  proselytes?  Sallenauve 
had  already  had  a  taste  of  his  party's  ideas  of  tolerance  in 
the  office  of  the  National;  he  had  heard  it  insinuated  that  the 
affectation  of  moderation  promised  by  his  profession  of  polit- 
ical faith  was  not  to  be  taken  literally  as  to  his  parliamentary 
conduct ;  that,  in  fact,  he  would  soon  find  himself  deserted  if 
he  should  attempt  to  make  his  practice  agree  with  his  theories. 

Anxious  as  he  was,  too,  about  Marie-Gaston,  having  put  in 
an  appearance  at  Nai's'  party,  he  was  eager  now  to  return  to 
Ville-d'Avray,  and  for  all  these  reasons  he  determined  to  profit 
by  the  general  excitement  and  beat  a  retreat.  By  quiet  and 
simple  tactics  he  got  round  to  the  door,  and  hoped  to  escape 
without  being  observed.  But  he  had  reckoned  without  Nai's, 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  333 

to  whom  he  had  promised  a  quadrille.  The  instant  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  door-handle  the  little  girl  sounded  the  alarm, 
and  Monsieur  de  FEstorade,  with  what  precipitancy  may  be 
imagined,  took  her  part  to  detain  the  deserter.  Seeing  that 
his  ruse  had  failed,  Sallenauve  dared  not  commit  himself  to  a 
retreat  which  would  have  been  in  bad  taste  by  assuming  an 
importance  suggestive  of  political  priggishness ;  so  he  took  his 
chance  of  what  might  happen,  and  allowing  himself  to  be 
reinstated  on  Nai's'  list  of  partners,  he  remained. 

Monsieur  de  FEstorade  knew  Sallenauve  to  be  too  clever 
a  man  to  become  the  dupe  of  any  finessing  he  might  attempt 
to  throw  him  in  the  Minister's  way.  He  therefore  acted  with 
perfect  simplicity;  and  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  Monsieur 
de  Rastignac's  arrival,  they  came  to  the  deputy  arm  in  arm, 
the  host  saying: 

"Monsieur  de  Rastignac,  Minister  of  Public  Works,  has 
desired  me  before  the  battle  begins  to  introduce  him  to  one 
of  the  generals  of  the  hostile  force." 

"Monsieur  le  Ministre  does  me  too  much  honor,"  said  Salle- 
nauve ceremoniously.  "Far  from  being  a  general,  I  am  but 
one  of  the  humblest  and  least  known  of  the  rank  and  file." 

"Nay!"  said  the  Minister,  "the  fight  at  Arcis-sur-Aube 
was  no  small  victory ;  you  sent  our  men  pretty  smartly  to  the 
right  about,  monsieur." 

"There  was  nothing  very  astonishing  in  that,  monsieur; 
as  you  may  have  heard,  we  had  a  Saint  on  our  side." 

"At  any  rate,"  replied  Rastignac,  "I  prefer  such  an  issue 
to  that  which  had  been  planned  for  us  by  a  man  whom  I  had 
believed  to  be  more  capable,  and  whom  we  sent  down  to  the 
scene  of  action.  That  Beauvisage  would  seem  to  be  hopelessly 
stupid;  he  would  have  reflected  on  us  if  we  had  got  him  in; 
and,  after  all,  he  was  only  Left  Centre,  like  that  lawyer 
Giguet.  Now  the  Left  Centre  is  in  fact  our  worst  enemy, 
because,  while  traversing  our  polities,  it  aims  principally  at 
getting  into  office." 

"Oh !"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  "from  what  you  were 
told  of  the  man,  he  would  have  been  whatever  he  was  bidden. 
to  be." 


334  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"No,  no,  my  dear  fellow,  don't  fancy  that.  Fools  often 
cling  more  closely  than  you  might  believe  to  the  flag  under 
which  they  have  enlisted.  Going  over  to  the  enemy  implies  a 
choice,  and  that  means  a  rather  complicated  mental  process; 
obstinacy  is  far  easier." 

"I  quite  agree  with  the  Minister,"  said  Sallenauve;  "the 
extremes  of  innocence  and  cunning  are  equally  proof  against 
being  talked  over." 

"You  kill  your  man  kindly,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade, 
patting  Sallenauve  on  the  shoulder. 

Then  seeing,  or  pretending  to  see,  in  the  mirror  over  the 
chimney-shelf  by  which  they  stood,  a  signal  that  he  was 
wanted : 

"Coming,"  said  he  over  his  shoulder,  and  having  thus 
thrown  the  foes  together,  he  went  off,  as  if  he  were  required 
for  some  duty  as  host. 

Sallenauve  was  determined  not  to  look  like  a  school-girl 
frightened  out  of  her  wits  at  the  notion  of  being  left  alone 
with  a  gentleman ;  since  they  had  met,  he  would  put  a  good 
face  on  the  matter,  and,  speaking  at  once,  he  asked  whether 
the  Ministry  had  any  large  number  of  bills  to  lay  before  the 
Houses,  which  would  meet  a  few  days  hence. 

"No,  very  few,"  replied  Rastignac.  "We  honestly  did  not 
expect  to  remain  in  office ;  we  appealed  to  an  election  because 
in  the  confusion  of  public  opinion  forced  on  by  the  Press,  we 
felt  it  our  duty  to  bring  it  to  its  bearings,  and  compel  it  to 
know  its  own  mind  by  requiring  it  to  declare  itself.  We  had 
no  hope  of  the  result  proving  favorable  to  ourselves ;  and  the 
victory,  it  must  be  confessed,  finds  us  quite  unprepared." 

"Like  the  peasant,"  said  Sallenauve,  laughing,  "who,  ex- 
pecting the  end  of  the  world,  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
sow  his  field." 

"Oh !"  said  Eastignac  modestly,  "we  did  not  regard  our 
retirement  as  the  end  of  the  world.  We  believe  that  there 
will  be  men  after  us,  and  many  of  them,  perfectly  able  to 
govern ;  only,  in  that  temporary  sojourn  known  as  office,  as  we 
expected  to  give  very  few  performances,  we  did  not  unpack 


THE    MEMKEK   FOR    ARCIS  335 

our  scenery  and  dresses.  The  session  was  not  in  any  case  to 
be  one  of  business ;  the  question  now  to  be  decided  is  between 
what  is  called  the  Chateau,  the  personal  influence  of  the 
sovereign,  and  parliamentary  supremacy.  This  question  will 
inevitably  come  to  the  front  when  we  are  required  to  ask  for 
the  secret  service  fund.  When  it  has  been  settled  one  way 
or  the  other,  when  the  budget  is  passed,  and  a  few  acts  of 
minor  importance,  Parliament  will  have  got  through  its  task 
with  credit,  for  it  will  have  put  an  end  to  a  heartbreaking 
struggle,  and  the  country  will  know  once  for  all  to  which  of 
the  two  powers  it  is  to  look  with  assurance  for  the  promotion 
of  its  prosperity." 

"Then  you  think,"  said  Sallenauve,  "that  this  is  a  very  use- 
ful question  to  settle  in  the  economy  of  a  constitutional  gov- 
ernment ?" 

"Well,  it  was  not  we  who  raised  it,"  said  Eastignac.  "It  is 
perhaps  the  outcome  of  circumstances ;  and,  to  a  great  extent, 
of  the  impatience  of  some  ambitious  men,  and  of  party 
tactics." 

"So  that,  in  your  opinion,  sir,  one  of  those  powers  is  in  oo 
respect  to  blame,  and  has  nothing  whatever  to  repent  of?" 

"You  are  a  Republican,"  replied  Eastignac,  "and  conse- 
quently a  priori  an  enemy  of  the  dynasty.  It  would  be,  I 
conceive,  pure  waste  of  time  on  my  part  to  try  to  rectify  your 
ideas  as  to  the  course  of  conduct  of  which  you  accuse  it." 

"You  are  quite  mistaken,"  said  the  supporter  of  the  theo- 
retical, imaginable  future  republic.  "I  have  no  preconceived 
hatred  of  the  reigning  dynasty.  I  even  think  that  in  its  past 
history,  variegated,  if  I  may  say  so,  with  royal  relationship 
and  revolutionary  impulses,  there  are  all  the  elements  that 
should  commend  it  to  the  liberal  and  monarchical  instincts 
of  the  people.  At  the  same  time,  you  will  fail  to  convince  me 
that  the  present  head  of  the  royal  family  is  untainted  by  those 
extravagant  notions  of  personal  prerogative  which,  in  the  long 
run,  must  undermine,  disfigure,  and  wreck  the  most  admirable 
and  the  strongest  institutions." 

"Yes,"  said  Eastignac  sarcastically,  "their  salvation  is  to 


330 

be  found  in  the  famous  saying  of  the  member  for  Sancerre, 
'The  King  reigns ;  he  does  not  govern !' ': 

Whether  it  was  that  he  was  tired  of  standing,  or  that  he 
wished  to  show  that  he  was  quite  at  his  ease  in  avoiding  the 
pitfall  that  had  so  evidently  been  laid  for  him,  Sallenauve, 
before  he  answered,  pulled  forward  an  armchair  for  the  Min- 
ister, and,  after  seating  himself,  replied : 

"Will  you  allow  me,  monsieur,  to  quote  the  example  of  an- 
other royal  personage  ? — a  Prince  who  was  not  thought  tc  be 
indifferent  to  the  prerogatives  of  his  crown,  and  who  cer- 
tainly was  not  ignorant  of  constitutional  procedure.  In  the 
first  place,  because,  like  our  present  King,  he  was  not  ignorant 
on  any  subject  whatever;  and,  in  the  second  place,  because 
he  himself  had  introduced  the  constitutional  system  into  our 
country." 

"Louis  XVIII.,"  said  Rastignac,  "or,  as  the  newspapers 
have  it,  'The  illustrious  author  of  the  Charter'?" 

"Just  so,"  said  Sallenauve.  "Now,  let  me  ask  you,  where 
did  he  die?" 

"At  the  Tuileries,  of  course." 

"And  his  successor?'' 

"In  exile. — I  see  your  point." 

"My  point  is  not,  in  fact,  very  difficult  to  discern.  But 
have  you  observed,  sir,  the  inference  to  be  drawn  from  that 
royal  career — for  which  I,  for  my  part,  profess  entire  respect? 
Louis  XVIII.  was  not  a  citizen  king.  He  vouchsafed  the 
Charter;  it  was  not  wrung  from  him.  He  was  born  nearer 
to  the  throne  than  the  King  whose  unfortunate  tendencies 
I  have  mentioned,  and  was  bound  to  inherit  a  larger  share 
of  the  ideas,  infatuations,  and  prejudices  of  Court  life.  His 
person  was  laughable — and  this  in  France  means  degeneracy ; 
he  had  to  make  the  best  of  a  new  regime  following  a  govern- 
ment which  had  intoxicated  the  people  with  that  fine  giMvd 
smoke  called  glory;  also,  if  lie  was  not  actually  brought  in  by 
foreigners,  he  at  least  came  in  at  the  heels  of  an  invasion 
by  Europe  in  arms.  And  now,  shall  I  tell  you  why,  in  spite  of 
his  own  original  sin,  and  in  spite  of  a  standing  conspiracy 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  337 

against  his  rule,  he  was  allowed  to  die  in  peace  under  his 
canopy  at  the  Tuileries  ?" 

"Because  he  was  constitutional?"  said  Rastignac,  with  a 
shrug.  "But  can  you  say  that  we  are  not  ?" 

"In  the  letter  you  are;  in  the  spirit,  no. — When  Louis 
XVIII.  placed  his  confidence  in  a  prime  minister,  it  was  com- 
plete and  entire ;  he  played  no  underhand  game,  but  supported 
him  to  the  utmost.  Witness  the  famous  edict  of  the  5th  of 
September,  and  the  dismissal  of  the  undiscoverable  Chamber, 
which  was  more  royalist  than  himself — a  thing  he  was  well 
advised  enough  to  disapprove.  Later,  a  revulsion  of  opinion 
shook  the  Minister  who  had  prompted  him  to  this  action. 
That  Minister  was  his  favorite — his  child,  as  he  called  him. 
No  matter;  yielding  to  constitutional  necessity,  after  wrap- 
ping him  in  orders  and  titles,  and  everything  that  could 
deaden  the  shock  of  a  fall,  he  courageously  sent  him  abroad; 
and  then  he  did  not  dig  mines,  or  set  watch,  or  try  to  make 
opportunities  for  surreptitiously  recalling  him  to  power. 
That  Minister  never  held  office  again." 

"For  a  man  who  does  not  hate  Us,"  said  Rastignac,  "you 
are  pretty  hard  upon  Us.  We  are  little  short  of  forsworn  to 
the  constitutional  compact,  and  Our  policy,  by  your  account, 
is  ambiguous,  and  tortuous,  and  suggests  a  certain  remote 
likeness  to  M.  Doublemain,  the  clerk  in  the  Mariage  de 
Figaro." 

"I  would  not  say  that  the  evil  lay  so  deep,  or  came  from 
so  far,"  replied  Sallenauve.  "We  are  perhaps  merely  a  busy- 
body— only  in  the  sense,  of  course,  of  loving  to  have  a  finger 
in  everything." 

"Well,  monsieur,  but  if  We  were  the  cleverest  politician  in 
the  kingdom !" 

"That  does  hinder  the  kingdom — which  is  all  the  world — 
from  having  the  luck  now  and  again  of  being  as  clever  as 
We  are." 

"On  my  word !"  said  Rastignac,  in  the  tone  which  seems  to 
emphasize  the  climax  of  a  conversation,  "I  wish  I  could 
realize  a  dream " 


338  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Of  what  ?"  said  Sallenauve. 

"Of  seeing  you  face  to  face  with  that  meddlesome  clever- 
ness which  you  seem  to  me  to  hold  so  cheap." 

"You  know,  monsieur,  that  three-quarters  of  every  man's 
life  are  spent  in  imagining  the  impossible." 

''Impossible !  Why  ?  Would  you  be  the  first  Opposition 
member  ever  seen  at  the  Tuileries? — And  an  invitation  to 
dinner — quite  publicly  and  ostensibly  given — that  would 
bring  you  near  to  what  you  judge  so  hardly  from  a  dis- 
tance  ?" 

"I  should  do  myself  the  honor  of  refusing  it,  monsieur," 
and  he  accentuated  the  honor  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  his 
own  meaning  to  the  word. 

"That  is  just  like  you,  all  you  men  of  the  Opposition,"  cried 
Eastignac,  "refusing  to  see  the  light  when  the  occasion  offers 
— incapable  of  seeing  it,  in  fact!" 

"Do  you  see  the  light  to  any  particular  advantage,  mon- 
sieur, when,  in  the  evening,  as  you  pass  a  druggist's  shop, 
you  get  full  in  your  eyes  a  glare  from  those  gigantic  glass  jars 
which  seem  to  have  been  invented  expressly  to  blind  people  ?" 

"You  are  not  afraid  of  Our  beams,  but  of  the  dark  lantern 
of  your  colleagues  making  their  rounds." 

"There  is  perhaps  some  truth  in  that,  Monsieur  le  Ministre. 
A  party,  and  the  man  who  craves  the  honor  of  representing  it, 
are  like  a  married  couple,  who,  if  they  are  to  get  on  together, 
must  treat  each  other  with  mutual  consideration,  sincerity, 
and  fidelity,  in  fact  as  well  as  in  form." 

"Then  try  to  be  moderate!  Your  dream,  indeed,  is  far 
more  impossible  to  realize  than  mine;  you  will  have  some 
experience  yet  of  the  consideration  shown  you  by  your  chaste 
spouse." 

"If  there  was  any  misfortune  I  might  be  certain  of,  it  was 
that,  no  doubt." 

"You  think  that!  And  you  with  the  noble  and  generous 
feeling  that  is  evident  in  you — can  you  even  endure  unmoved 
the  slander  which  is  perhaps  already  sharpening  its  darts  ?" 

"Have  you  yourself,  monsieur,  never  felt  its  sting?  or,  if 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  339 

you  have,  did  it  turn  you  aside  from  the  road  you  were  fol- 
lowing?" 

"But  if  I  were  -to  tell  you,"  said  Eastignac,  lowering  his 
voice,  "that  I  have  already  had  occasion  to  decline  certain 
officious  proposals  to  stir  the  depths  of  your  private  life,  on  a 
side,  which,  being  a  little  less  open  to  daylight  than  the 
others,  has  seemed  particularly  adapted  for  the  setting  of  a 
snare  ?" 

"I  will  not  thank  you,  sir,  for  merely  doing  yourself  justice 
by  scorning  the  attempts  of  these  meddlers,  who  are  neither 
of  your  party  nor  of  mine — whose  only  party  is  that  of  their 
own  low  greed  and  interest.  But  even  if  by  some  impossible 
chance  they  had  found  a  loophole  through  which  to  approach 
you,  believe  me,  that  any  purpose  sanctioned  by  my  conscience 
would  not  have  been  in  the  least  affected." 

"Still,  do  but  consider  the  constituent  elements  of  your 
party:  a  rabble  of  disappointed  schemers,  of  envious  bru- 
tality, base  imitators  of  '93,  despots  disguised  as  devotees  of 
liberty." 

"My  party  has  not,  and  wants  to  have.  Yours  calls  itself 
Conservative — and  with  good  reason — its  principal  aim  being 
to  keep  power,  places,  fortune,  everything  it  has,  in  its 
clutches.  But  at  bottom,  monsieur,  the  cooking  is  the  same : 
eat,  but  do  not  see  the  process;  for,  as  la  Bruyere  says,  'If 
you  see  a  meal  anywhere  but  on  a  well-laid  table,  how  foul 
and  disgusting  it  is !' ': 

"But,  at  any  rate,  monsieur,  We  are  not  a  blind  alley — We 
lead  to  something.  Now,  the  more  you  rise  by  superior  char- 
acter and  intelligence,  the  less  will  you  be  allowed  to  get 
through  with  your  horde  of  democrats  in  your  train,  for  its 
triumph  would  mean  not  a  mere  change  of  policy,  but  a  revo- 
lution." 

"But  who  says  that  I  want  to  get  through,  to  arrive  any- 
where ?" 

"What,  merely  march  without  trying  to  attain ! — A  certain 
breadth  of  faculty  not  only  gives  a  man  the  right  to  aim  at 
the  conduct  of  affairs,  it  makes  it  his  duty." 


340  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"To  keep  an  eye  on  those  who  conduct  them  is  surely  a 
useful  function  too,  and,  I  may  add,  a  very  absorbing  one." 

"You  do  not  imagine,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Rastignac,  "that 
I  should  have  taken  so  much  trouble  to  convince  Beauvisage : 
to  be  sure,  it  must  be  said  that  with  him  I  should  have  had  an 
easier  task." 

"One  happy  result  will  ensue  from  the  introduction  which 
chance  has  brought  about,"  said  Sallenauve.  "We  shall  feel 
that  we  know  each  other,  and  in  our  future  meetings  shall  be 
pledged  to  courtesy — which  will  not  diminish  the  strength  of 
our  convictions." 

"Then  I  am  to  tell  the  King,  for  I  had  special  instructions 
from  his  Majesty " 

Rastignac  could  not  finish  the  sentence  which  was  his 
last  cartridge,  as  it  were;  for,  as  the  band  played  the  intro- 
ductory bars  of  a  quadrille,  Nais  rushed  up  to  him,  and,  with 
coquettish  courtesy,  said: 

"Monsieur  le  Ministre,  I  am  very  sornr,  but  you  have  taken 
possession  of  my  partner,  and  you  must  give  him  up  to  me. 
I  have  his  name  down  for  the  eleventh  quadrille,  and  if  I 
miss  a  turn  it  makes  such  dreadful  confusion  !" 

"You  will  excuse  me,  monsieur,"  said  Sallenauve,  laughing. 
"You  see  I  am  not  a  very  red  Republican." 

And  he  went  with  jSTa'is,  who  dragged  him  away  by  the 
hand. 

Madame  de  1'Estorade  had  had  a  kindly  thought.  It  had 
occurred  to  her  that  Sallenauve's  good-natured  consent  to 
humor  Nais  might  cost  his  dignity  a  prick,  so  she  had  con- 
trived that  some  papas  and  mammas  should  join  in  the 
quadrille  he  had  been  drawn  into;  and  she  herself,  with  the 
young  Highlander,  the  hero  of  the  blank  billets-doux — who, 
little  as  she  suspected  it,  was  quite  capable  of  making  mis- 
chief for  her — took  the  place  of  vis-a-vis  to  the  little  girl. 

NVis  was  beaming  with  pride  and  delight;  and  at  a  mo- 
ment, when  in  the  figure  of  the  dance  she  had  to  take  her 
mother's  hand: 

"Poor  mamma,"  said  she,  giving  it  an  ecstatic  clutch,  "but 
for  him  you  would  not  have  me  here  now !" 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  341 

The  sudden  and  unexpected  impression  of  this  reminis- 
cence so  startled  Madame  de  FEstorade  that  she  was  seized 
with  a  return  of  the  nervous  spasm  that  had  attacked  her  at 
the  sight  of  the  child's  narrow  escape.  She  was  obliged  to 
take  a  seat,  and  seeing  her  turn  pale,  Sallenauve,  Xa'is,  and 
Madame  de  Camp  all  three  came  up  to  know  if  she  was  ill. 

"It  is  nothing,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  as  she  turned 
to  Sallenauve — "only  this  child  reminded  me  of  our  immense 
obligation  to  you.  'But  for  him/  she  said  to  me,  'you  would 
not  have  me  here,  poor  mamma !' — And  it  is  true,  monsieur, 
but  for  your  magnanimous  courage,  where  would  she  be 
now  ?- — " 

"Come,  come,  be  calm,"  said  Madame  Octave,  hearing  that 
her  friend's  voice  was  broken  and  hysterical.  "Have  you  no 
sense  that  you  can  be  so  upset  by  a  little  girl's  speech  ?" 

"She  has  more  feeling  than  we  have,"  replied  Madame  de 
FEstorade,  throwing  her  arms  round  Nais,  who,  with  the  rest, 
was  saying,  "Come,  mamma,  be 'calm." 

"There  is  nothing  in  the  world  that  she  thinks  more  of  than 
her  preserver — while  her  father  and  I — we  have  hardly  ex- 
pressed our  gratitude." 

"Why,  you  have  overwhelmed  me,  madame,"  said  Salle- 
nauve politely. 

"Overwhelmed?"  said  Nai's,  shaking  her  pretty  head  dubi- 
ously. "If  any  one  had  saved  my  daughter,  I  should  treat 
him  very  differently  !" 

"Na'is,"  said  Madame  de  Camps  severely,  "little  girls  should 
be  seen  and  not  heard  when  their  opinion  is  not  asked." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  Moiinc-nr  de  1'Estorade,  who 
now  joined  the  group. 

"Xothing,"  said  Madame  de  Camps.  "Dancing  made 
Renee  a  little  giddy." 

"And  is  she  all  right  again  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have  quite  recovered,"  replied  Madame  de  1'Es- 
torade. 

"Then  come  to  say  good-night  to  Madame  de  Rastignac; 
she  is  just  going." 


342  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

In  his  eagerness  to  attend  the  Minister's  wife,  Monsieur 
de  1'Estorade  did  not  think  of  giving  his  arm  to  his  own  wife. 
Sallenauve  offered  her  his.  As  they  crossed  the  room,  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade  leading  the  way  so  that  he  could  not  hear, 
his  wife  said  to  Sallenauve: 

"You  were  talking  to  Monsieur  de  Eastignac  for  a  long 
time.  He  tried,  no  doubt,  to  convert  you  ?  ' 

"Do  you  think  he  has  succeeded  ?"  asked  Sallenauve. 

"No;  but  these  attempts  at  inveiglement  are  always  un- 
pleasant. I  can  only  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  was  no  party 
to  the  conspiracy.  I  am  not  such  a  frenzied  Ministerialist 
as  my  husband.", 

"Nor  am  I  such  a  rabid  revolutionary  as  seems  to  be  sup- 
posed." 

"I  only  hope  that  these  vexatious  politics,  which  will 
bring  you  more  than  once  into  antagonism  with  Monsieur 
de  1'Estorade,  will  not  sicken  you  of  including  us  among 
your  friends." 

"Nay,  madame,  that  is  an  honor  I  can  be  only  happy  in." 

"It  is  not  honor  but  pleasure  that  I  would  have  you  look 
for,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade  eagerly.  "I  must  parody 
Nais — 'If  I  had  saved  anybody's  daughter,  I  should  be  less 
ceremonious/  ': 

And  having  said  this,  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  she  re- 
leased her  hand  from  Sallenauve's  arm,  and  left  him  not  a 
little  surprised  at  her  tone. 

My  readers  will  hardly  be  surprised  to  find  Madame  de 
1'Estorade  so  entirely  obedient  to  Madame  Octave's  advice, 
ingenious  perhaps  rather  than  judicious.  In  fact,  they  must 
long  since  have  suspected  that  the  unimpressionable  Countess 
had  yielded  to  a  certain  attraction  towards  the  man  who  had 
not  only  saved  her  child's  life,  but  also  appealed  to  her 
imagination  through  such  singular  and  romantic  accessory 
facts.  No  one  but  herself,  it  is  quite  certain,  had  been  de- 
luded into  security  by  a  conviction  of  Sallenauve's  perfect 
indifference.  The  certainty  of  his  not  caring  for  her  was,  in 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  343 

fact,  the  only  snare  into  which  she  could  trip;  as  a  declared 
lover  he  would  have  been  infinitely  less  dangerous. 

On  closer  acquaintance,  Madame  de  1'Estorade  was  far 
from  being  one  of  those  imperturbable  natures  which  can 
withstand  every  contagion*  of  love  outside  the  family  circle. 
Her  beauty  was  almost  of  the  Spanish  type,  with  eyes,  of 
which  her  friend  Louise  de  Chaulieu  used  to  say  that  they 
ripened  the  peaches  when  they  looked  at  them;  her  coldness, 
then,  was  not  what  medical  men  term  congenital;  it  was 
acquired  self-control.  Married,  and  not  for  love,  to  a  man 
whose  intellectual  poverty  has  been  seen,  she  had,  in  opposi- 
tion to  an  axiom  of  the  comic  opera,  forced  her  contempt  to 
take  the  form  of  affection ;  and  by  means  of  a  certain  atrophy 
of  the  heart  into  which  she  had  drilled  herself,  she  had  suc- 
ceeded till  the  present  -  time,  without  ever  stumbling,  in 
making  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  the  happiest  of  husbands. 
To  the  same  end  she  had  fostered  her  maternal  feeling  to 
a  hardly  credible  fervency,  thus  cheating  her  other  instincts. 

But  in  considering  the  success  that  had  hitherto  crowned 
her  stern  task,  one  of  the  first  elements  to  be  reckoned  with 
was  the  circumstance  of  Louise  de  Chaulieu.  To  her  that 
poor  reasonless  woman  had  been  like  the  drunken  slaves,  by 
whose  example  the  Spartans  were  wont  to  give  a  living  lesson 
to  their  children,  and  a  sort  of  tacit  wager  had  existed  between 
the  two  friends.  Louise  de  Chaulieu  having  thrown  herself 
into  the  part  of  unchecked  passion,  Renee  had  assumed  that 
of  sovereign  reason ;  and  to  gain  the  stakes,  she  had  exerted 
such  brave  good  sense  and  prudence  as,  but  for  this  incite- 
ment, would  perhaps  have  seemed  a  far  greater  sacrifice. 
At  the  age  she  had  now  attained,  with  such  confirmed  habits 
of  self-control,  it  is  quite  intelligible  that  if  she  had  seen, 
advancing  down  the  highroad,  the  temptation  to  love  against 
which  she  had  so  loudly  preached,  she  would  at  once  have 
recognized  and  dismissed  it.  But  here  was  a  man  who  cared 
not  for  her,  though  he  thought  her  beauty  ideal,  who  perhaps 
loved  another  woman;  a  man  who,  after  snatching  her  child 
from  deatht  looked  for  no  reward ;  who  was  dignified,  reserved, 


344  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

and  absorbed  in  quite  other  interests — how,  when  he  came 
into  her  life  by  a  side  path,  was  she  to  think  of  him  as  danger- 
ous, or  to  refuse  him  from  the  first  the  calm  cordiality  of 
friendship  ? 

Sallenauve,  meanwhile,  was  on  ftis  way  to  Ville-d'Avray, 
whither  he  had  set  out  in  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour, 
possessed  by  his  fears  for  his  friend.  And  this  was  what  he 
was  thinking  about: 

As  he  looked  back  on  the  incidents  of  the  evening,  the 
deputy,  as  may  be  supposed,  attached  no  great  importance 
either  to  Rastignac's  attempts  at  gaining  him,  or  to  Na'is' 
impassioned  demonstrations,  which  indeed  could  have  no 
result  but  that  of  making  him  ridiculous ;  but  he  was  far  from 
being  so  indifferent  to  Madame  de  1'Estorade's  effusive  burst 
of  gratitude;  it  was  this  perfervid  expression  of  thanks  that 
occupied  his  mind.  Without  having  anything  definite  to 
complain  of  in  the  Countess'  attitude,  Sallenauve  had  cer- 
tainly never  found  her  at  all  warm  in  her  regard,  and  he  had 
formed  the  same  estimate  of  her  temper  and  character  as  the 
rest  of  the  world  around  her.  He  had  seen  her  as  a  woman 
of  remarkable  intellectual  gifts,  but  paralyzed  as  to  her  heart, 
by  her  absorbing  and  exclusive  passion  for  her  children.  "The 
ice-bound  Madame  de  1'Estorade,"  Marie-Gaston  had  once 
called  her,  and  it  was  correct  if  he  had  ever  thought  of  making 
a  friend  of  her — that  is  to  say,  of  becoming  her  lover. 

Nor  was  it  only  as  regarded  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  but  as 
regarded  her  husband  too,  that  Sallenauve  had  doubted  the 
future  permanency  of  their  alliance.  "We  shall  quarrel  over 
politics,"  he  had  told  himself  a  dozen  times,  and  the  reader 
may  remember  one  of  his  letters  in  which  he  had  contem- 
plated this  conclusion  with  some  bitterness.  So  when  Ma- 
dame de  1'Estorade  had  seemed  to  encourage  him  to  take  up 
an  attitude  of  more  effusive  intimacy  with  her,  what  had 
most  surprised  him  was  the  marked  distinction  she  had  drawn 
between  her  husband's  probable  demeanor  and  her  own.  Be- 
fore a  woman  would  say  with  such  agitation  as  she  had  put 
into  the  inviting  words,  "I  only  hope  that  these  vexatious 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  345 

politics  will  not  disgust  you  with  us  as  friends,"  she  must 
have,  Sallenauve  thought,  to  speak  so  warmly,  a  warmer  heart 
than  she  was  generally  credited  with;  and  this  profession  of 
alliance  was  not,  he  felt  sure,  to  be  taken  as  a  mere  drawing- 
room  civility,  or  the  thoughtless  utterance  of  a  transient 
and  shallow  impulse,  as  the  little  nervous  attack  had  been 
which  had  led  to  it  all. 

Having  thus  analyzed  this  somewhat  serious  flirtation,  to 
repay  Madame  de  1'Estorade's  politeness  the  statesman  did 
not  scorn  to  descend  to  a  remark,  which  was  illogical,  it  must 
be  owned,  as  regards  his  usual  reserve,  and  certain  memories 
of  his  past  life.  He  recollected  that  more  than  once,  at 
Eome,  he  had  seen  Mademoiselle  de  Lanty  dance,  and  com- 
paring the  original  with  the  duplicate,  he  could  assure  him- 
self that,  notwithstanding  the  difference  in  their  age,  the 
girl  had  not  a  more  innocent  air,  nor  had  she  struck  him  as 
more  elegant  and  graceful. 

And  in  view  of  this  fact,  will  not  the  clear-sighted  reader — 
who  may  some  time  since  have  begun  to  suspect  that  these 
two  natures,  apparently  so  restrained,  so  entrenched  in  their 
past  experiences,  might  ultimately  come  into  closer  contact — • 
discern  a  certain  convergence  of  gravitation  though  hitherto 
scarcely  perceptible?  It  was,  if  you  please,  solely  out  of 
deference  to  Madame  de  Camps'  advice  that  Madame  de  1'Es- 
torade  had  so  completely  modified  her  austere  determination ; 
still,  short  of  admitting  some  slight  touch  of  the  sentiment 
her  friend  had  hinted  at,  is  it  likely  that  she  would  have 
given  such  singular  vehemence  to  her  expression  of  grateful 
regard,  or  that  a  mere  remark  from  a  child  would  have 
strung  her  nerves  up  to  such  a  point  as  to  surprise  her  into 
the  outburst? 

On  his  part,  not  having  taken  advantage  of  the  privileged 
position  thus  recklessly  thrown  open  to  him,  our  deputy  was 
tempted  to  think,  with  a  persistency  which,  if  not  very  im- 
prudent, was  at  least  very  unnecessary,  of  these  superficial 
graces.  Madame  de  Camps  had  spoken  truly:  "Friendship 
between  a  man  and  woman  is  neither  an  impossible  dream 


346  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

nor  an  ever-yawning  gulf."  But  in  practice,  it  must  be  said, 
that  this  sentiment,  by  which  we  delude  ourselves,  proves  to 
be  a  very  narrow  and  baseless  bridge  across  a  torrent,  needing 
in  those  who  hope  to  cross  it  without  difficulty  much  presence 
of  mind  on  both  sides  and  nerves  less  sensitive  than  Madame 
de  1'Estorade's ;  while  it  is  a  necessary  precaution  never  to 
look  to  right  and  left,  as  Sallenauve  had  just  been  doing. 

From  this  elaborate  observation,  subtle  as  it  may  appear, 
there  is,  it  would  seem,  a  conclusion  to  be  drawn:  namely, 
that  there  would  presently  be  a  rise  of  temperature  between 
these  two  whose  affinities  were  as  yet  so  negative  and  so  slow 
to  develop. 

However,  on  arriving  at  Ville-d'Avray,  Sallenauve  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  a  strange  event;  and  who  does  not 
know  how,  in  spite  of  our  determination,  events  often  disperse 
our  maturest  plans  ? 

Sallenauve  had  not  been  mistaken  in  his  serious  anxiety  as 
to  his  friend's  mental  condition. 

When  Marie-Gaston  abruptly  fled  after  his  wife's  death 
from  the  spot  where  that  cruel  parting  had  occurred,  he 
would  have  been  wise  to  pledge  himself  never  to  see  it  again. 
Nature  and  Providence  have  willed  it  that  in  presence  of  the 
stern  decrees  of  Death  he  who  is  stricken  through  the  person 
of  those  he  loves,  if  he  accepts  the  stroke  with  the  resignation 
demanded  under  the  action  of  every  inevitable  law,  does  not 
for  long  retain  the  keen  stamp  of  the  first  impression.  In  his 
famous  letter  against  suicide,  Eousseau  says :  "Sadness,  weari- 
ness, regret,  despair  are  but  transient  woes  which  never  take 
root  in  the  soul,  and  experience  exhausts  the  feeling  of  bitter- 
ness which  makes  us  think  that  our  sorrow  must  be  eternal." 

But  this  is  no  longer  true  for  those  rash  beings  who,  trying 
to  escape  from  the  first  grip  of  the  jaws  of  grief,  evade  it 
either  by  flight  or  by  some  immoderate  diversion.  All  mental 
suffering  is  a  kind  of  illness  for  which  time  is  a  specific,  and 
which  presently  wears  itself  out,  like  everything  violent.  If, 
on  the  contrary,  instead  of  being  left  to  burn  itself  out  slowly 
on  the  spot,  it  is  fed  by  change  of  scene  or  other  extreme  meas- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  347 

ares,  the  action  of  Nature  is  hampered.  The  sufferer  deprives 
himself  of  the  balm  of  comparative  forgetfulness  promised  to 
those  who  can  endure;  he  merely  transforms  into  a  chronic 
disease,  less  visible  perhaps,  but  more  deeply  seated,  an  acute 
attack,  thrown  in  by  checking  its  healthy  crisis.  The  imagi- 
nation sides  with  the  heart,  and,  as  the  heart  is  by  nature 
limited  while  the  fancy  is  boundless,  there  is  no  possibility 
of  calculating  the  violence  of  the  excesses  by  which  a  man  may 
be  carried  away  under  its  ere  long  absolute  dominion. 

Marie-Gast'on,  as  he  wandered  through  this  home  where  he 
had  believed  that  after  the  lapse  of  two  years  he  should  find 
only  the  pathos  of  remembrance,  had  not  taken  a  step,  had 
not  met  with  an  object  in  his  path  that  could  fail  to  revive 
all  his  happiest  days  and  at  the  same  time  the  disaster  that 
had  ended  them.  The  flowers  his  wife  had  loved,  the  lawns 
and  trees — verdurous  under  the  soft  breath  of  spring,  while 
she  who  had  formed  the  lovely  spot  lay  under  the  cold  earth — 
all  the  dainty  elegance  brought  together  to  decorate  this  ex- 
quisite nest  for  their  love,  combined  to  sing  a  chorus  of  lamen- 
tation, a  long  drawn  wail  of  anguish  in  the  ears  of  him  who 
dared  to  breathe  the  dangerous  atmosphere.  Terrified  when 
half-way  by  the  overwhelming  sorrow  that  had  seized  on  him, 
Marie-Gaston,  as  Sallenauve  had  observed,  had  not  dared  ac- 
complish the  last  station  of  his  Calvar}^.  In  absence,  he  had 
calmly  busied  himself  with  drawing  up  an  estimate  for  the 
private  tomb  he  had  intended  to  build  for  the  remains  of  his 
beloved  Louise ;  but  here  he  could  not  endure  even  to  do  them 
pious  homage  in  the  village  graveyard  where  they  were  laid. 

The  worst,  in  short,  might  be  feared  from  a  sorrow  which, 
instead  of  being  soothed  by  the  touch  of  time,  was,  on  the 
contrary,  aggravated  by  duration,  having  as  it  seemed  found 
fresh  poison  for  its  sting. 

As  Sallenauve  approached  this  melancholy  dwelling,  think- 
ing less  of  himself  and  of  the  joys  or  disappointments  possi- 
bly in  store  for  him,  he  was  more  and  more  vaguely  anxious, 
and  two  or  three  times  he  urged  the  coachman  to  whip  up  his 
horses  and  get  on  faster. 


348  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

The  door  was  opened  by  Philippe,  the  old  man  who  in 
Madame  Marie-Gaston's  time  had  been  the  house  steward. 

"How  is  your  master?"  asked  Sallenauve. 

"He  is  gone,  sir,"  replied  Philippe. 

"Gone — where  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  with  the  English  gentleman  who  was  here  when 
you  left." 

"But  without  a  word  for  me,  without  telling  you  where  thev 
are  gone?" 

"After  dinner,  when  all  was  well,  my  master  suddenly  said 
that  he  wanted  a  few  things  packed  for  a  journey,  and  he  saw 
to  them  himself.  At  the  same  time,  the  Englishman, 
after  saying  he  would  walk  in  the  park  and  smoke  a  cigarette, 
mysteriously  asked  me  where  he  could  write  a  letter  without 
being  seen  by  my  master.  I  took  him  into  my  own  room,  but 
I  dared  not  ask  him  anything  about  this  journey,  for  I  never 
saw  any  one  less  communicative  or  open.  When  he  had 
written  the  letter  everything  was  ready;  and  then,  without 
a  word  of  explanation,  the  two  gentlemen  got  into  the  Eng- 
lish gentleman's  chaise,  and  I  heard  them  tell  the  coachman 
to  drive  to  Paris " 

"But  the  letter?"  said  Sallenauve. 

"It  is  addressed  to  you,  sir,  and  the  Englishman  gave  it 
me  in  secret,  as  he  had  written  it." 

"Then  give  it  me,  my  good  man!"  cried  Sallenauve;  and 
without  going  any  further  than  the  hall  where  he  had  stood 
questioning  Philippe,  he  hastily  read  it. 

His  features,  as  the  man  studied  them,  showed  great  dis- 
tress. t 

"Tell  them  not  to  take  the  horses  out,"  said  he.  And  he 
read  the  letter  through  a  second  time. 

When  the  old  servant  came  back  from  delivering  the  order: 

"At  what  hour  did  they  start?"  Sallenauve  inquired. 

"At  about  nine  o'clock." 

"They  have  three  hours'  start,"  said  he  to  himself,  looking 
at  his  watch,  which  marked  some  minutes  past  midnight. 

He  turned  to  get  into  the  carriage  that  was  to  take  him 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  346 

away  again.  Just  as  he  was  stepping  into  it,  the  steward 
ventured  to  ask,  "There  is  nothing  alarming,  I  hope,  in  that 
letter,  sir?" 

"No,  nothing.  But  your  master  may  be  absent  some  little 
time ;  take  care  to  keep  the  house  in  good  order." 

And  then,  like  the  two  who  had  preceded  him,  he  said: 
"To  Paris." 

Next  morning,  pretty  early,  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  was  in 
his  study  very  busy  in  a  strange  way.  It  may  be  remembered 
that  Sallenauve  had  sent  him  a  statuette  of  Madame  de 
1'Estorade;  he  had  never  been  able  to  find  a  place  where  the 
work  stood  to  his  mind  in  a  satisfactory  light.  But  ever  since 
the  hint  given  him  by  Eastignac  that  his  friendship  with  the 
sculptor  might  serve  him  but  ill  at  court,  he  had  begun  to 
agree  with  his  son  Armand  that  the  artist  had  made  Madame 
de  1'Estorade  look  like  a  milliner's  apprentice ;  and  now,  when 
by  his  obduracy  to  the  Minister's  inveiglements,  Sallenauve 
had  shown  himself  irreclaimably  opposed  to  the  Government, 
the  statuette — its  freshness  a  little  dimmed,  it  must  be 
owned,  by  the  dust — no  longer  seemed  presentable,  and  the 
worthy  peer  was  endeavoring  to  discover  a  corner,  in  which 
it  would  be  out  of  sight,  so  that  he  might  not  be  required 
to  tell  the  name  of  the  artist,  which  every  visitor  asked, 
without  making  himself  ridiculous  by  removing  it  altogether. 
So  he  was  standing  on  the  top  step  of  a  library  ladder  with 
the  sculptor's  gift  in  his  hands  and  about  to  place  it  on  the  top 
of  a  tall  cabinet.  There  the  hapless  sketch  was  to  keep  com- 
pany with  a  curlew  and  a  cormorant,  shot  by  Armand  during 
his  last  holidays.  They  were  the  first  fruits  of  the  young 
sportsman's  prowess,  and  paternal  pride  had  decreed  them 
the  honors  of  stuffing. 

At  this  juncture  Lucas  opened  the  door  to  show  in : 

"Monsieur  Philippe." 

The  worthy  steward's  age,  and  the  confidential  position  he 
held  in  Marie-Gaston's  household,  had  seemed  to  the  1'Es- 


350  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

torades'  factotum  to  qualify  him  for  the  title  o"f  Monsieur— 
a  civility  to  be,  of  course,  returned  in  kind. 

The  master  of  the  house,  descending  from  his  perch,  asked 
Philippe  what  had  brought  him,  and  whether  anything  had 
happened  at  Ville-d'Avray.  The  old  man  described  his 
master's  strange  departure,  followed  by  the  no  less  strange 
disappearance  of  Sallenauve,  who  had  fled  as  if  he  were  at 
the  heels  of  an  eloping  damsel,  and  then  he  went  on : 

"This  morning,  as  I  was  putting  my  master's  room  tidy,  a 
letter  fell  out  of  a  book,  addressed  to  Madame  la  Comtesse. 
As  it  was  sealed  and  ready  to  be  sent  off,  I  thought  that,  per- 
haps in  the  hurry  of  packing,  my  master  had  forgotten  to  give 
it  me  to  post.  At  any  rate,  I  have  brought  it;  Madame  la 
Comtess  may,  perhaps,  finds  that  it  contains  some  explanation 
of  this  unexpected  journey — I  have  dreamed  of  nothing  else 
all  night." 

Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  took  the  letter. 

"Three  black  seals !"  said  he,  turning  it  over. 

"It  is  not  the  color  that  startles  me,"  said  Philippe.  "Since 
madame  died,  monsieur  uses  nothing  but  black ;  but  I  confess 
the  three  seals  struck  me  as  strange." 

"Very  good,"  said  Monsieur  de  FEstorade ;  "I  will  give  the 
letter  to  my  wife." 

"If  there  should  be  anything  to  reassure  me  about  my  mas- 
ter," said  Philippe  wistfully,  "would  you  let  me  know,  Mon- 
sieur le  Comte  ?" 

"You  may  rely  on  it,  my  good  fellow. — Good-morning." 

"I  humbly  beg  pardon  for  having  an  opinion  to  offer," 
said  the  old  servant,  without  taking  the 'hint  thus  given  him; 
"but  for  fear  of  there  being  any  bad  news  in  the  letter,  do  not 
you  think,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  that  it  would  be  well  to  know 
it,  so  as  to  prepare  Madame  la  Comtesse?" 

"Why  !  What !  Do  you  suppose  ? —  "  Monsieur  de  1'Es- 
torade  began,  without  finishing  his  question. 

"I  do  not  know.  My  master  has  been  very  much  depressed 
these  last  few  days." 

"It  is  always  a  very  serious  step  to  open  a  letter  not  ad- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  351 

dressed  to  oneself,"  said  the  Accountant-General.  "This  case 
is  peculiar — the  letter  is  addressed  to  my  wife,  but  in  fact  was 
never  sent  to  her — it  is  really  a  puzzling  matter " 

"Still,  if  by  reading  it  you  could  prevent  something  dread- 
ful- 

"Yes — that  is  just  what  makes  me  hesitate." 

Madame  de  1'Estorade  settled  the  question  by  coming  into 
the  room.  Lucas  had  told  her  of  old  Philippe's  arrival. 

"What  can  be  the  matter  ?"  she  asked,  with  uneasy  curiosity. 

All  Sallenauve's  apprehensions  of  the  night  before  recurred 
to  her  mind. 

When  the  steward  had  repeated  the  explanations  he  had 
already  given  to  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  she  unhesitatingly 
broke  the  seals. 

"I  know  so  much  now,"  she  said  to  her  husband,  who  tried 
to  dissuade  her,  "that  the  worst  certainty  would  be  preferable 
to  the  suspense  we  should  be  left  in." 

Whatever  the  contents  of  this  alarming  epistle,  the  Count- 
ess' face  told  nothing. 

"And  you  say  that  your  master  went  off  accompanied  by  this 
English  gentleman,"  said  she,  "and  not  under  any  com- 
pulsion ?" 

"On  the  contrary,  madame,  he  seemed  quite  cheerful." 

"Well,  then,  there  is  nothing  to  be  frightened  about.  This 
letter  has  been  written  a  long  time ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  three 
black  seals,  it  has  no  bearing  on  anything  to-day." 

Philippe  bowed  and  departed.  When  the  husband  and  wife 
were  alone : 

"What  does  he  say  ?"  asked  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  and  he 
put  out  his  hand  for  the  letter  his  wife  still  held. 

"No.  Do  not  read  it,"  said  the  Countess,  not  surrender- 
ing it. 

"Why  not?" 

"It  will  pain  you.  It  is  quite  enough  that  I  should  have 
had  the  shock,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  old  steward,  before 
whom  I  had  to  control  myself." 

"Does  it  speak  of  any  purpose  of  suicide?" 


,352  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Madame  de  1'Estorade  did  not  speak,  but  she  nodded  affima- 
tively. 

"But  a  definite,  immediate  purpose?" 

"The  letter  was  written  yesterda}^  morning;  and  to  all  ap- 
pearance, but  for  the  really  providential  presence  of  this 
stranger,  last  evening,  during  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  ab- 
sence, the  wretched  man  would  have  carried  out  his  fatal 
purpose." 

"The  Englishman  has,  no  doubt,  carried  him  off  solely  to 
hinder  it.  That  being  the  case,  he  will  not  lose  sight  of  him." 

"We  may  also  count  on  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  inter- 
vention/' observed  Madame  de  1'Estorade.  "He  has  probably 
followed  them." 

"Then  there  is  nothing  so  very  alarming  in  the  letter," 
said  her  husband.  And  again  he  held  out  his  hand  for  it. 

"But  when  I  entreat  you  not  to  read  it,"  said  Madame  de 
1'Estorade,  holding  it  back.  "Why  do  you  want  to  agitate 
yourself  so  painfully  ?  It  is  not  only  the  idea  of  suicide — our 
unhappy  friend's  mind  is  completely  unhinged." 

At  this  instant  piercing  shrieks  were  heard,  uttered  by 
Eene,  the  youngest  of  the  children,  and  this  threw  his  mother 
into  one  of  those  maternal  panics  of  which  she  was  quite 
unable  to  control  the  expression. 

"Good  God !  What  has  happened  ?"  she  cried,  rushing  out 
of  the  room. 

Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  less  easily  perturbed,  only  went  as 
far  as  the  door  to  ask  a  servant  what  was  the  matter. 

"It  is  nothing,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  Monsieur  Eene  in 
shutting  a  drawer  pinched  the  tip  of  his  finger." 

The  Peer  of  France  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  proceed  to 
the  scene  of  the  catastrophe;  he  knew  that  in  these  cases  he 
must  leave  his  wife  to  give  free  course  to  her  extravagant 
motherly  solicitude,  or  take  a  sharp  wigging.  As  he  returned 
to  his  seat  by  the  table  he  felt  a  paper  under  his  foot;  it  was 
the  famous  letter,  which  Madame  de  1'Estorade  had  dropped 
as  she  flew  off  without  observing  its  fall. 

Opportunity  and  a  sort  of  fatality  that  frequently  rules 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  353 

human  affairs,  prompted  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  who  could 
not  understand  his  wife's  objections;  he  hastened  to  gratify 
his  curiosity. 

Marie-Gaston  wrote  as  follows: 

"MADAME, — This  letter  will  not  be  so  amusing  as  those  I 
wrote  ymi  from  Arcis-sur-Aube.  But  you  must  not  be  fright- 
ened by  the  determination  I  have  come  to.  I  am  simply  going 
to  join  my  wife,  from  whom  I  have  been  too  long  parted,  and 
to-night,  soon  after  midnight,  I  shall  be  with  her,  never  to 
leave  her  again.  You  and  Sallenauve  have,  no  doubt,  re- 
marked that  it  is  strange  that  I  should  not  yet  have  been  to 
visit  her  tomb;  two  of  my  servants  were  saying  so  the  other 
day,  not  knowing  that  I  could  overhear  them.  But  I  should 
have  been  a  great  fool  to  go  to  a  graveyard  and  stare  at  a 
block  of  stone  that  cannot  speak  to  me,  when  every  night  as 
midnight  strikes,  I  hear  a  little  tap  at  my  bedroom  door, 
which  I  open  at  once  to  our  dear  Louise,  who  is  not  altered 
at  all;  on  the  contrary,  I  think  she  is  fairer  and  lovelier. 
She  has  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  my  discharge  from  this 
world  from  Mary  the  Queen  of  the  Angels ;  but  last  night  she 
brought  me  my  papers  properly  made  out,  sealed  with  a  large 
seal  of  green  wax',  and  at  the  same  time  she  gave  me  a  tiny 
phial  of  hydrocyanic  acid.  One  drop  sends  me  to  sleep,  and 
when  I  wake  I  am  on  the  other  side. 

"Louise  also  gave  me  a  message  for  you;  to  tell  you  that 
Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  has  a  liver  complaint  and  cannot  live 
long ;  and  that  when  he  is  dead  you  are  to  marry  Sallenauve, 
because  over  there  you  are  always  restored  to  the  husband  you 
loved;  and  she  thinks  our  party  of  four  will  be  much  pleas- 
anter  with  you  and  me  and  Sallenauve  than  with  your  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade,  who  is  enough  to  bore  you  to  death,  and 
whom  you  married  against  your  will. 

"My  message  delivered,  I  have  only  to  wish  you  good 
patience,  madame,  during  the  time  you  have  still  to  spend 
down  here,  and  to  subscribe  myself  your  affectionate  humble 
servant." 


354  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

If,  on  finishing  this  letter,  it  had  occurred  to  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade  to  look  at  himself  in  a  glass,  he  would  have  seen 
in  the  sudden  crestfallen  expression  of  his  features  the  effects 
of  the  unavowed  but  terrible  blow  he  had  dealt  himself  by  his 
luckless  curiosity.  His  feelings,  his  mind,  his  self-respect 
had  all  felt  one  and  the  same  shock;  and  the  quite  obvious 
insanity  revealed  in  the  prediction  of  which  he  was  the  subject 
only  made  it  seem  more  threatening.  Believing,  like  the 
Mussulmans,  that  madmen  are  gifted  with  a  sort  of  second 
sight,  he  gave  himself  over  at  once,  felt  a  piercing  pain  in  his 
diseased  liver,  and  was  seized  with  a  jealous  hatred  of  Salle- 
nauve,  his  designate  successor,  such  as  must  cut  off  any  kind 
of  friendly  relations  between  them. 

At  the  same  time,  as  he  saw  how  ridiculous,  how  absolutely 
devoid  of  reason,  was  the  impression  that  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  him,  he  was  terrified  lest  any  one  should  suspect  its 
existence ;  and  with  the  instinctive  secretiveness  which  always 
prompts  the  mortally  sick  to  hide  the  mischief,  he  began  to 
consider  how  he  could  keep  from  his  wife  the  foolish  act  that 
had  blighted  his  whole  existence.  It  would  seem  incredible 
that  lying  under  his  very  eye  the  fatal  letter  should  have 
escaped  his  notice;  and  from  this  to  the  suspicion  that  he  had 
read  it  the  inference  was  only  too  plain. 

He  rose,  and  softly  opening  the  door  of  his  room,  after 
making  sure  that  there  was  nobody  in  the  drawing-room  be- 
yond, he  went  on  tiptoe  to  throw  the  letter  on  the  floor  at  the 
furthest  side  of  the  room,  where  Madame  de  1'Estorade  would 
suppose  that  she  had  dropped  it.  Then,  like  a  schoolboy  who 
had  been  playing  a  trick,  and  wishes  to  put  the  authorities 
off  the  scent  by  an  affectation  of  studiousness,  he  hastily 
strewed  his  table  with  papers  out  of  a  bulky  official  case,  so  as 
to  seem  absorbed  in  accounts  when  his  wife  should  return. 

Meanwhile,  as  need  scarcely.be  said,  he  listened  in  case  any- 
body but  Madame  de  1'Estorade  should  come  into  the  outer 
room  where  he  had  laid  his  trap ;  in  that  case  he  would  have 
intervened  at  once  to  hinder  indiscreet  eyes  from  investigating 
the  document  that  held  such  strange  secrets. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  355 

Madame  de  1'Estorade's  voice  speaking  to  some  one,  and 
her  appearance  in  his  room  a  few  minutes  after  with  Monsieur 
Octave  de  Camps,  showed  that  the  trick  had  succeeded.  By 
going  forward  as  his  visitor  came  in,  he  could  see  through  the 
half-open  door  the  spot  where  he  had  left  the  letter.  Not  only 
was  it  gone,  but  he  could  detect  by  a  movement  of  his  wife's 
that  she  had  tucked  it  into  her  morning  gown  in  the  place 
where  Louis  XIII.  dared  not  seek  the  secrets  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Hautefort. 

"I  have  come  to  fetch  you  to  go  with  me  to  Eastignac,  as 
we  agreed  last  evening,"  said  de  Camps. 

"Quite  right,"  said  his  friend,  putting  up  his  papers  with  a 
feverish  haste  that  showed  he  was  not  in  a  normal  frame  of 
mind. 

"Are  you  ill?"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  who  knew  her 
husband  too  well  not  to  be  struck  by  the  singular  absence  of 
mind  he  betrayed;  and  at  the  same  time,  looking  him  in 
the  face,  she  observed  a  strange  change  in  his  countenanced 

"You  do  not  look  quite  yourself,  indeed,"  said  Monsieur  de 
Camps.  "If  you  had  rather,  we  will  put  off  this  visit." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade ;  "I  have  worried 
myself  over  this  work,  and  want  pulling  together — But  what 
about  Rene?"  said  he  to  his  wife,  whose  inquisitive  eye  op- 
pressed him.  "What  was  the  matter  that  he  screamed  so 
loud?" 

"A  mere  trifle !"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  still  studying 
his  face. 

"Well,  then,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  her  husband,  assuming 
as  indifferent  a  manner  as  he  could  command,  "I  have  only  to 
change  my  coat  and  I  am  yours." 

When  the  Countess  was  alone  with  Monsieur  de  Camps : 

"Does  it  not  strike  you,"  said  she,  "that  Monsieur  de  FEs- 
torade  seems  quite  upset  this  morning?" 

"As  I  said  just  now,  he  is  not  at  all  himself.  But  the  ex- 
planation is  perfectly  reasonable;  we  disturbed  him  in  the 
middle  of  his  work.  Office  work  is  unhealthy ;  I  never  in  my 
life  was  so  well  as  I  have  been  since  I  took  over  the  ironworks 
you  so  vehemently  abuse." 


350  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  with  a  deep  sigh ; 
"he  needs  exercise,  an  active  life;  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
he  has  some  incipient  liver  disease." 

"Because  he  looks  yellow?  But  he  has  looked  so  ever 
since  I  have  known  him." 

"Oh !  monsieur,  I  cannot  be  mistaken.  There  is  something 
seriously  wrong,  and  you  would  do  me  the  greatest  ser- 
vice  " 

"Madame,  you  have  only  to  command  me." 

"When  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  comes  back,  we  will  speak  of 
the  little  damage  Rene  has  done  to  his  finger.  Tell  me  that 
trifling  accidents,  if  neglected,  may  lead  to  serious  mischief — 
that  gangrene  has  been  known  to  supervene  and  make  amputa- 
tion necessary.  That  will  give  me  an  excuse  for  sending  for 
Dr.  Bianchon." 

"Certainly,"  said  Monsieur  de  Camps.  "I  do  not  think 
medical  advice  very  necessary ;  but  if  it  will  reassure  you — 

At  this  moment  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  came  back;  he 
had  almost  recovered  his  usual  looks,  but  a  strong  smell  of 
Eau  de  Melisse  des  Carmes  proved  that  he  had  had  recourse 
to  that  cordial  to  revive  him.  Monsieur  de  Camps  played 
his  part  as  Job's  comforter  to  perfection ;  as  to  the  Countess, 
she  had  no  need  to  affect  anxiety ;  her  make-believe  onty  con- 
cerned its  object. 

"My  dear,"  said  she  to  her  husband,  after  listening  to  the 
ironmaster's  medical  discourse,  "as  7ou  come  home  from  the 
Minister's  I  wish  you  would  call  on  Dr.  Bianchon." 

"What  next!"  said  he,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  "call  out 
such  a  busy  man  for  what  you  yourself  say  is  a  mere  trifle." 

"If  you  will  not  go,  I  will  send  Lucas.  Monsieur  de 
Camps  has  quite  upset  me." 

"If  you  choose  to  be  ridiculous,"  said  her  husband  sharply, 
"I  know  no  means  of  preventing  it;  but  one  thing  I  may 
remind  you,  and  that  is,  that  if  you  send  for  a  medical  man 
when  there  is  nothing  the  matter,  under  serious  circumstances 
you  may  find  that  he  will  not  come." 

"And  you  will  not  go  ?" 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  357 

"I  will  certainly  not,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade;  "and 
if  I  had  the  honor  of  being  master  in  my  own  house,  I  should 
forbid  your  sending  any  one  in  my  stead." 

"My  dear,  you  are  the  master,  and  since  you  refuse  so 
emphatically  we  will  say  no  more  about  it.  I  will  try  not  to 
be  too  anxious." 

"Are  you  coming,  de  Camps?"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Esto- 
rade,  "for  at  this  rate  I  shall  be  sent  off  directly  to  order  the 
child's  funeral." 

"But,  my  dear,  are  you  ill,"  said  the  Countess,  taking  his 
hand,  "that  you  can  say  such  shocking  things  in  cold  blood? 
It  is  not  like  your  usual  patience  with  my  little  motherly 
fussiness — nor  like  the  politeness  on  which  you  pride  yourself 
— to  everybody,  including  your  wife." 

"No,  but  the  truth  is,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  irritated 
instead  of  soothed  by  this  gentle  and  affectionate  re- 
monstrance, "your  motherly  care  is  really  becoming  a  mono- 
mania ;  you  make  life  unbearable  to  everybody  but  your  chil- 
dren. Deuce  take  it  all !  if  they  are  our  children,  I  am  their 
father;  and  if  I  am  not  adored  as  they  are,  at  any  rate  I 
have  the  right  to  expect  that  my  house  may  not  be  made  un- 
inhabitable !" 

While  he  poured  out  this  jeremiad,  striding  up  and  down 
the  room,  the  Countess  was  gesticulating  desperately  to  Mon- 
sieur de  Camps  as  if  to  ask  him  whether  he  did  not  discern 
a  frightful  symptom  in  this  scene. 

To  put  an  end  to  this  painful  contest,  of  which  he  had  so 
involuntarily  been  the  cause,  he  now  said: 

"Are  we  going?" 

"Come  along,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  leading  the 
way,  without  taking  leave  of  his  wife. 

"Oh,  I  was  forgetting  a  message  for  you,"  added  the  iron- 
master, turning  back.  "Madame  de  Camps  will  call  for  you 
at  about  two  o'clock  to  choose  some  spring  dress  stuffs;  she 
has  settled  that  we  shall  all  four  go  on  afterwards  to  the 
flower-show.  When  we  leave  Rastignac,  1'Estorade  and  I  will 
come  back  to  fetch  you,  and  if  you  are  not  in  we  will  wait." 


358  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

The  Countess  scarcely  heeded  this  programme;  a  flash  of 
light  had  come  to  her.  As  soon  as  she  was  alone,  she  took  out 
Marie-Gaston's  letter,  and  finding  it  folded  in  the  original 
creases : 

"Not  a  doubt  of  it !"  she  exclaimed.  "I  remember  replac- 
ing it  in  the  envelope  folded  inside  out.  The  unhappy  man 
has  read  it." 

Some  hours  later  Madame  de  1'Estorade  and  Madame  de 
Camps  were  together  in  the  drawing-room  where  only  a  few 
days  since  Sallenauve's  cause  had  been  so  warmly  argued. 

"Good  heavens!  what  is  the  matter  with  you?"  cried  Ma- 
dame de  Camps,  on  finding  her  friend  in  tears  as  she  finished 
writing  a  letter. 

The  Countess  told  her  of  all  that  had  passed,  and  read 
her  Marie-Gaston's  letter.  At  any  other  time  the  disaster  it 
so  plainly  betrayed  would  have  greatly  grieved  her  friend ; 
but  the  secondary  misfortune  which  it  had  apparently  oc- 
casioned absorbed  all  her  thoughts. 

"And  are  you  quite  sure  that  your  husband  mastered  the 
contents  of  that  ill-starred  letter?"  she  asked. 

"How  can  I  doubt  it?"  replied  Madame  de  1'Estorade. 
"The  paper  cannot  have  turned  itself  inside  out ;  and  besides, 
when  I  recall  it  all,  I  fancy  that  at  the  moment  when  I  flew 
off  to  Rene  I  let  something  drop.  As  ill-luck  would  have  it, 
I  did  not  stop  to  look." 

"But  very  often,  when  you  rack  your  memory,  you  remem- 
ber things  that  did  not  happen." 

"But,  my  dear  friend,  the  extraordinary  change  that  so 
suddenly  took  place  in  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  could  only 
be  due  to  some  overpowering  shock.  He  looked  like  a  man 
struck  by  lightning." 

"Very  well ;  but  then  if  it  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  a  pain- 
ful surprise,  why  do  you  insist  on  regarding  it  as  the  result 
of  a  liver  complaint." 

"Oh,  that  is  no  new  thing  to  me,"  said  Madame  de  1'Esto- 
rade. "Only,  when  sick  people  make  no  complaints  one  is 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  359 

apt  to  forget. — Look  here,  my  dear,"  she  went  on,  pointing 
to  a  volume  that  lay  open  near  her,  "just  before  your  arrival 
I  was  reading  in  this  medical  dictionary  that  persons  with 
liver  disease  become  gloomy,  restless,  and  irritable.  And  for 
some  little  time  past  I  have  noticed  a  great  change  in  my  hus- 
band's temper ;  you  yourself  remarked  on  it  the  other  day ;  and 
this  little  scene,  at  which  Monsieur  de  Camps  was  present — 
unprecedented,  I  assure  you,  in  our  married  life — seems  to 
me  a  terrible  symptom." 

"My  dear,  good  child,  you  are  like  all  people  when  they 
are  bent  on  worrying  themselves.  In  the  first  place,  you 
study  medical  books,  which  is  the  most  foolish  thing  in  the 
world.  I  defy  you  to  read  the  description  of  a  disease  with- 
out fancying  that  you  can  identify  the  symptoms  in  yourself 
or  in  some  one  you  care  for.  And  besides,  you  are  mixing 
up  things  that  are  quite  different :  the  effects  of  a  fright  with 
those  of  a  chronic  complaint — they  have  nothing  on  earth 
in  common." 

"No,  no,  I  am  not  confusing  them ;  I  know  what  I  am  talk- 
ing about.  Do  not  you  know  that  in  our  poor  human  ma- 
chinery, if  any  part  is  already  affected,  every  strong  emotion 
attacks  that  spot  at  once  ?" 

"At  any  rate,"  said  her  friend,  to  put  an  end  to  the  medical 
question,  "if  that  unhappy  madman's  letter  is  likely  to  have 
some  ulterior  influence  on  your  husband's  health,  it  threatens 
far  more  immediately  to  imperil  your  domestic  peace.  That 
must  be  considered  first." 

"There  is  no  alternative,"  said  the  Countess.  "Monsieur 
de  Sallenauve  must  never  again  set  foot  in  the  house." 

"There  is  a  good  deal  to  be  said  on  that  point,  and  it  is 
just  what  I  want  to  talk  over  with  you. — Do  you  know  that 
yesterday  I  found  you  lacking  in  that  moderation  which  has 
always  been  a  prominent  trait  in  your  character " 

"When  was  that?"  asked  Madame  de  1'Estorade. 

"At  the  moment  when  you  favored  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve 
with  such  a  burst  of  gratitude.  When  I  advised  you  not  to 
avoid  him  for  fear  of  tempting  him  to  seek  your  company,  I 


S60  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

certainly  did  not  advise  you  to  fling  your  kindness  at  his  head, 
so  as  to  turn  it !  As  the  wife  of  so  zealous  an  adherent  of  the 
reigning  dynasty,  you  ought  to  know  better  what  is  meant  by 
Le  Juste  Milieu"  (the  happy  medium). 

"Oh,  my  dear,  no  witticisms  at  my  husband's  expense !" 

"I  am  not  talking  of  your  husband,  but  of  you,  my  dear. 
You  amazed  me  so  much  last  night,  that  I  felt  inclined  to  re- 
call all  I  had  said  on  my  first  impulse.  I  like  my  advice  to 
be  followed — but  not  too  much  followed." 

"At  any  other  moment  I  would  ask  you  to  tell  me  wherein 
I  so  far  exceeded  your  instructions;  but  now  that  fate  has 
settled  the  question,  and  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  must  be 
simply  cleared  out  of  the  way,  of  what  use  is  it  to  discuss  the 
exact  limit-line  of  my  behavior  to  him  ?" 

"Well,"  said  Madame  de  Camps,  "to  tell  you  the  whole 
truth,  I  was  beginning  to  think  the  man  a  danger  to  you  on 
quite  another  side." 

"Which  is? " 

"Through  Na'is.  That  child,  with  her  passion" for  her  pre- 
server, really  makes  me  very  anxious." 

"Oh,"  said  the  Countess,  with  a  melancholy  smile,  "is  not 
that  ascribing  too  much  importance  to  a  child's  nonsense  ?" 

"Nais  is  a  child,  no  doubt,  but  who  will  be  a  woman  sooner 
than  most  children.  Did  you  not  yourself  write  to  me  that 
she  had  intuitions  on  some  subjects  quite  beyond  her  years?" 

"That  is  true.'  But  in  what  you  call  her  passion  for  Mon- 
sieur de  Sallenauve,  besides  its  being  quite  natural,  the  dear 
child  is  so  frank  and  effusive  that  the  feeling  has  a  genuinely 
childlike  stamp." 

"Well — trust  me,  and  do  not  trust  to  that;  not  even  when 
this  troublesome  person  is  out  of  the  way !  Think,  if  when 
the  time  came  to  arrange  for  her  marriage  this  liking  had 
grown  up  with  her — a  pretty  state  of  things !" 

"Oh,  between  this  and  then — thank  Heaven ! "  said 

the  Countess  incredulously. 

"Between  this  and  then,"  replied  Madame  de  Camps,  "Mon- 
sieur de  Sallenauve  may  have  achieved  such  success  that  his 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  361 

name  is  in  everybody's  mouth;  and  with  her  lively  imagina- 
tion, Nais  would  be  the  first  to  be  captivated  by  such  brill- 
iancy." 

"But  still,  my  dear,  the  difference  of  age " 

"Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  is  thirty ;  Nais  is  nearly  thirteen. 
The  difference  is  exactly  the  same  as  between  your  age  and 
Monsieur  de  1'Estorade's,  and  you  married  him." 

"Quite  true;  you  may  be  right,"  said  Madame  de  1'Esto- 
rade ;  "what  I  did  as  a  matter  of  good  sense,  Nais  might  insist 
on  passionately.  But  be  easy ;  I  will  so  effectually  shatter  her 
idol " 

"That  again,  like  the  hatred  you  propose  to  act  for  your 
husband's  benefit,  requires  moderation.  If  you  do  not  man- 
age it  gradually,  you  may  fail  of  your  end.  You  must  allow 
•  it  to  be  supposed  that  circumstances  have  brought  about  a 
feeling  which  should  seem  quite  spontaneous." 

"But  do  you  suppose,"  cried  Madame  de  1'Estorade  ex- 
citedly, "that  I  need  act  aversion  for  this  man?  Why,  I 
hate  him !  He  is  our  evil  genius !" 

"Come,  come,  my  dear,  compose  yourself !  I  really  do  not 
know  you.  You  who  used  to  be  unruffled  reason !" 

Lucas  at  this  moment  came  in  to  ask  the  Countess  if  she 
could  see  a  Monsieur  Jacques  Bricheteau. 

Madame  de  1'Estorade  looked  at  her  friend,  saying : 

"The  organist  who  was  so  helpful  to  Monsieur  de  Salle- 
nauve at  the  time  of  his  election.  I  do  not  know  what  he 
can  want  of  me." 

"Never  mind ;  see  him,"  said  her  friend.  "Before  opening 
hostilities,  it  is  not  amiss  to  know  what  is  going  on  in  the' 
enemy's  camp." 

"Show  him  in,"  said  the  Countess. 

Jacques  Bricheteau  came  in.  So  sure  had  he  been,  on  the 
other  hand,  of  being  among  friends,  that  he  had  given  no 
special  attention  to  his  toilet.  A  capacious  chocolate-brown 
overcoat,  whose  cut  it  would  have  been  vain  to  assign  to  any 
date  of  fashion ;  a  checked  waistcoat,  gray  and  green,  but- 
toned to  the  throat;  a  black  cravat,  twisted  to  a  rope,  and 


362  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

worn  without  a  collar,  while  it  showed  an  inch  of  very  doubt- 
ful clean  shirt  front;  yellow  drab  trousers,  gray  stockings, 
and  tied  shoes — this  was  the  more  than  careless  array  in 
which  the  organist  ventured  into  the  presence  of  the  elegant 
Countess. 

Scarcely  bidden  to  take  a  seat: 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "I  have  perhaps  taken  a  liberty  in  pre- 
senting myself  to  you,  unknown ;  but  Monsieur  Marie-Gaston 
spoke  to  me  of  your  possibly  wishing  that  I  should  give  some 
lessons  to  mademoiselle  your  daughter.  I  told  him  at  first 
that  there  might  be  some  little  difficulty,  as  all  my  time  was 
filled  up ;  but  the  Prefet  of  Police  has  just  set  me  at  leisure 
by  dismissing  me  from  a  post  I  held  in  his  department,  so  I 
am  happy  to  be  able  to  place  myself  entirely  at  your  service." 

"And  has  your  dismissal,  monsieur,  been  occasioned  by  the* 
part  you  played  in  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  election  ?"  asked 
Madame  de  Camps. 

"As  no  reason  was  assigned,  it  seems  probable ;  all  the  more 
so  that,  in  the  course  of  twenty  years'  service,  this  discharge 
is  the  very  first  hitch  that  has  ever  arisen  between  me  and 
my  superiors." 

"It  cannot  be  denied,"  said  Madame  de  PEstorade,  sharply 
enough,  "that  you  very  seriously  interfered  with  the  intentions 
of  the  Government/' 

"Yes,  madame;  and  I  accepted  my  dismissal  as  a  disaster 
I  was  quite  prepared  for.  After  all,  what  was  the  loss  of 
my  small  appointment  in  comparison  with  the  election  of 
Monsieur  de  Sallenauve?" 

"I  am  really  distressed,"  the  Countess  went  on,  "to  make 
no  better  return  for  the  eagerness  you  are  good  enough  to 
express ;  but  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  I  have  no  fixed  pur- 
pose as  to  choosing  a  master  for  my  daughter,  and  in  spite 
of  the  immense  talent  for  which  the  world  gives  you  credit, 
I  should  be  afraid  of  such  serious  teaching  for  a  little  girl  of 
thirteen." 

"Quite  the  reverse,  madame,"  replied  the  organist.  "No- 
body credits  me  with  talent.  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  and 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  363 

Monsieur  Marie-Gaston  have  heard  me  two  or  three  times, 
but  apart  from  that,  I  am  a  mere  unknown  teacher,  and  per- 
haps you  are  right — perhaps  a  very  tiresome  one.  So,  setting 
aside  the  question  of  lessons  to  mademoiselle  your  daughter, 
let  me  speak  of  the  thing  that  has  really  brought  me  here — 
Monsieur  de  Sallenauve." 

"Did  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  charge  you  with  any  message 
to  my  husband?"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  with  marked 
coldness. 

"No,  madame,  he  has,  I  grieve  to  say,  charged  me  with 
nothing.  I  went  to  call  on  him  this  morning,  but  he  was 
absent.  I  went  to  Ville-d'Avray,  where  I  was  told  that  I 
should  find  him,  and  learned  that  he  had  started  on  a  journey 
with  Monsieur  Marie-Gaston.  Then,  thinking  that  you  might 
possibly  know  the  object  of  this  journey,  and  how  long  he 
would  be  away 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  in- 
terrupting him  in  a  hard  tone. 

"I  had  a  letter  this  morning,"  Jacques  Bircheteau  went 
on,  "from  Arcis-sur-Aube.  My  aunt,  Mother  Marie  des 
Anges,  warns  me,  through  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  notary, 
that  a  base  conspiracy  is  being  organized,  and  our  friend's 
absence  complicates  matters  very  seriously.  I  cannot  under- 
stand what  put  it  into  his  head  to  vanish  without  warning  any- 
body who  takes  an  interest " 

"That  he  should  not  have  given  you  notice,"  said  Madame 
de  1'Estorade,  in  the  same  tone,  "may  possibly  surprise  you. 
But  so  far  as  my  husband  and  I  are  concerned,  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  astonished  at." 

The  significance  of  this  uncivil  distinction  was  too  clear 
to  be  misunderstood.  Jacques  Bircheteau  looked  at  the 
Countess,  and  her  eyes  fell ;  but  the  whole  expression  of  her 
face,  set  due  North,  confirmed  the  meaning  which  it  was  im- 
possible to  avoid  finding  in  her  words. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  madame,"  said  he,  rising.  "I  did  not 
know — I  could  not  have  supposed  that  you  were  so  utterly 
indifferent  to  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  prospects  and  honor. 


364  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

But  a  minute  ago,  in  the  ante-room,  when  your  servant  was  in 
doubt  about  announcing  me,  mademoiselle  your  daughter,  on 
hearing  that  I  was  a  friend  of  his,  eagerly  took  my  part; 
and  I  was  so  foolish  as  to  conclude  that  she  represented  the 
general  good  feeling  of  the  family." 

After  pointing  this  distinction,  which  was  quite  a  match 
for  Madame  de  1'Estorade's,  thus  paying  her  back  in  her  own 
coin,  Jacques  Bircheteau  bowed  ceremoniously,  and  was  about 
to  leave. 

The  two  ladies  exchanged  a  glance,  as  if  to  ask  each  other 
whether  it  would  be  well  to  let  this  man  depart  thus  after 
shooting  so  keen  a  parting  dart. 

In  fact,  a  crushing  contradiction  was  at  this  instant  given 
to  the  Countess'  assumption  of  indifference:  Na'is  came  fly- 
ing in. 

"Mamma !"  she  cried  exultantly,  "a  letter  from  Monsieur 
de  Sallenauve !" 

The  Countess  blushed  purple. 

"What  manners  are  these,  bouncing  in  like  a  mad  thing?" 
said  she  severely.  "And  how  do  you  know  that  the  letter  is 
from  that  gentlemen  ?" 

"Oh !"  said  Na'is,  turning  the  blade  in  the  wound,  "when 
he  wrote  to  you  from  Arcis,  I  got  to  know  his  writing." 

"You  "are  a  silly,  inquisitive  child,"  said  her  mother,  roused 
out  of  her  usual  indulgence  by  so  many  luckless  speeches. 
"Go  to  nurse." 

Then  to  give  herself  some  countenance : 

"Allow  me,  monsieur,"  said  she  to  Jacques  Bricheteau,  as 
she  opened  the  letter  so  inappropriately  delivered. 

"Nay,  Madame  la  Comtesse,"  replied  the  organist,  "it  is 
I  who  crave  your  permission  to  wait  till  you  have  read  your 
letter.  If  by  any  chance  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  should  give 
you  any  account  of  his  movements,  you  would  perhaps  have 
the  kindness  to  give  me  the  benefit  of  it " 

Having  looked  through  the  letter: 

"Monsieur  de  Sallenauve,"  said  the  Countess,  "desires  me 
to  tell  my  husband  that  he  is  on  his  way  to  England — Han- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  365 

well,  in  the  county  of  Middlesex.     He  is  to  be  addressed  un- 
der cover  to  Doctor  Ellis." 

Jacques  Bricheteau  again  bowed  with  due  formality,  and 
left  the  room, 

"Nai's  has  just  treated  you  to  a  taste  of  her  girl-in-love 
tricks,"  said  Madame  de  Camps.  "But  you  had  well  earned 
it.  You  had  behaved  to  that  poor  man  with  a  hardness  that 
deserved  a  severer  sally  than  his  parting  retort.  He  seems 
to  have  a  ready  wit  of  his  own;  and  '//  by  any  chance'  Mon- 
sieur de  Sallenauve  had.  given  you  any  information,  was 
rather  neat  under  the  circumstances." 

"What  is  to  be  done?"  said  her  friend;  "the  day  began, 
badly ;  all  the  rest  is  to  match." 

"What  about  the  letter?" 

"It  is  heartbreaking. — Read  it." 

"MADAME"  (Sallenauve  wrote), — "I  succeeded  in  overtak- 
ing Lord  Lewin  a  few  leagues  beyond  Paris — he  is  the  Eng- 
lishman of  whom  I  spoke  to  you,  and  Providence  sent  him  to 
spare  us  a  terrible  catastrophe.  Possessed  of  a  large  fortune, 
he,  like  many  of  his  countrymen,  is  liable  to  attacks  of  de- 
pression, and  only  his  strength  of  mind  has  saved  him  from 
the  worst  results  of  the  malady.  His  indifference  to  life,  and 
the  cool  stoicism  with  which  he  speaks  of  voluntary  death, 
won  him  at  Florence,  where  they  met,  our  unhappy  friend's 
confidence.  Lord  Lewin,  who  is  interested  in  the  study  of 
vehement  emotions,  is  intimately  acquainted  with  Dr.  Ellis, 
a  physician  famous  for  his  treatment  of  the  insane,  and  his 
Lordship  has  often  spent  some  weeks  at  the  Hanwell  Asylum 
for  Lunatics  in  Middlesex.  It  is  one  of  the  best  managed 
asylums  in  England,  and  Dr.  Ellis  is  at  the  head  of  it. 

"Lord  Lewin,  on  arriving  at  Ville-d'Avray,  at  once  dis- 
cerned in  Marie-Gaston  the  early  symptoms  of  acute  mania. 
Though  not  yet  obvious  to  superficial  observers,  they  did  not 
escape  Lord  Lewin's  practised  eye.  'He  picked  and  hoarded,' 
said  he,  in  speaking  of  our  poor  friend ;  that  is  to  say,  as  they 


366  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

walked  about  the  park  Marie-Gaston  would  pick  up  such 
rubbish  as  straws,  old  bits  of  paper,  and  even  rusty  nails, 
putting  them  carefully  in  his  pocket ;  and  this,  it  would  seem, 
is  a  symptom  familiar  to  those  who  have  studied  the  progress 
of  mental  disease.  Then,  by  recurring  to  the  discussions 
they  had  held  at  Florence,  Lord  Lewin  had  no  difficulty  in 
discovering  his  secret  purpose  of  killing  himself.  Believing 
that  his  wife  visited  him  every  evening,  the  poor  fellow  had 
determined — on  the  very  night  of  your  little  dance — to  follow 
his  adored  Louise,  as  he  said.  So,  you  see,  my  fears  were 
not  exaggerated,  but  were  the  outcome  of  an  instinct. 

"Lord  Lewin,  instead  of  opposing  his  resolution,  affected 
to  participate  in  it. 

"  'But  men  like  us,'  said  he,  'ought  not  to  die  in  any  vulgar 
way,  and  there  is  a  mode  of  death  of  which  I  had  thought 
for  myself,  and  which  I  propose  that  we  should  seek  in  com- 
mon.— In  South  America,  not  far  from  Paraguay,  there  is 
one  of  the  most  tremendous  cataracts  in  the  world,  known  as 
the  Falls  of  Gayra.  The  spray  that  rises  from  the  abyss  is  to 
be  seen  for  many  leagues,  and  reflects  seven  rainbows.  A 
vast  volume  of  water,  spreading  over  a  breadth  of  more  than 
twelve  thousand  feet,  is  suddenly  pent  up  in  a  narrow  channel, 
and  falls  into  a  gulf  below  with  a  sound  more  deafening  than 
a  hundred  thunderclaps  at  once. — That  is  where  I  have  al- 
ways dreamed  of  dying.' 

"  'Let  us  be  off,'  said  Marie-Gaston. 

"  'This  very  minute,'  said  Lord  Lewin.  'Pack  your  things ; 
we  will  sail  from  England,  and  be  there  in  a  few  weeks.' 

"And  in  this  way,  madame,  the  clever  foreigner  succeeded 
in  putting  our  friend  off  from  his  dreadful  purpose.  As  you 
may  understand,  he  is  taking  him  to  England  to  place  him 
in  Dr  Ellis'  care,  since  he — Lord  Lewin  says — has  not  his 
match  in  Europe  for  treating  the  very  sad  case  that  is  to  be 
confided  to  him.  If  I  had  been  present,  I  should  have  con- 
curred entirely  in  this  arrangement,  which  has  this  ad- 
vantage, that  in  the  event  of  his  recovery  our  friend's  attack 
will  remain  unknown. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  367 

"Informed  by  a  letter  left  for  me  by  Lord  Lewin  at  Ville- 
d'Avray,  I  immediately  set  out  in  pursuit;  and  at  Beauvais, 
whence  I  am  writing,  I  came  up  with  them  in  a  hotel,  where 
Lord  Lewin  had  put  up  to  enable  the  patient  to  benefit  by 
sleep,  which  had  happily  come  over  him  in  the  carriage,  after 
weeks  of  almost  total  insomnia.  Lord  Lewin  looks  upon  this 
as  a  very  favorable  symptom,  and  he  says  that  the  malady 
thus  treated,  as  it  will  be,  from  the  beginning,  has  the  best 
possible  chance  of  cure. 

"I  shall  follow  them  closely  to  Hanwell,  taking  care  not 
to  be  seen  by  Marie-Gaston,  since,  in  Lord  Lewin's  opinion, 
my  presence  might  disturb  the  comparative  tranquillity  of 
mind  that  he  has  derived  from  the  thought  of  the  pompous 
end  he  is  going  to  find.  On  reaching  the  asylum,  I  shall  wait 
to  hear  Dr.  Ellis'  verdict. 

"The  session  opens  so  soon  that  I  fear  I  may  not  be  back 
in  time  for  the  first  sittings;  but  I  shall  write  to  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Chamber,  and  if  it  should  happen  that  any 
difficulty  arose  as  to  the  leave  of  absence  for  which  I  must 
petition,  I  venture  to  rely  on  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade's  kind- 
ness to  certify  the  absolute  necessity  for  it.  At  the  same  time, 
I  must  beg  him  to  remember  that  I  cannot  authorize  him  on 
any  consideration  to  reveal  the  nature  of  the  business  which 
has  compelled  me  to  go  abroad.  However,  the  mere  state- 
ment of  a  fact  by  such  a  man  as  M.  de  1'Estorade  must  be 
enough  to  secure  its  acceptance  without  any  explanation. 

"Allow  me,  madame,  to  remain,  etc." 

As  Madame  de  Camps  finished  reading,  carriage  wheels 
were  heard. 

"There  are  our  gentlemen  back  again,"  said  the  Countess. 
"Now,  shall  I  show  this  letter  to  my  husband?" 

"You  cannot  do  otherwise.  There  would  be  too  great  a 
risk  of  what  Nais  might  say.  Besides,  Monsieur  de  Salle- 
nauve  writes  most  respectfully;  there  is  nothing  to  encourage 
your  husband's  notions." 

As  soon  as  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  came  in,  his  wife  could 


368  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

see  that  he  had  recovered  his  usual  looks,  and  she  was  about 
to  congratulate  him,  when  he  spoke  first. 

"Who  is  the  man  of  very  shabby  appearance,"  asked  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade,  "whom  I  found  speaking  to  Xais  on  the 
stairs  ?" 

As  his  wife  did  not  seem  to  know  what  he  was  talking 
about,  lie  went  on.  "A  man  very  much  marked  by  the  small- 
pox, with  a  greasy  hat  and  a  brown  overcoat?" 

"Oh !"  said  Madame  de  Camps  to  her  friend,  "our  visitor ! 
Nais  could  not  resist  the  opportunity  of  talking  about  her 
idol." 

"But  who  is  the  man?" 

"Is  not  his  name  Jacques  Bricheteau  ?"  said  the  Countess, 
"a  friend  of  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's." 

Seeing  a  cloud  fall  on  her  husband's  countenance,  Madame 
de  FEstorade  hurriedly  explained  the  two  objects  of  the 
organist's  visit,  and  she  gave  the  Member's  letter  to  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade. 

While  he  was  reading  it: 

"He  seems  better,  do  you  think  ?"  the  Countess  asked  Mon- 
sieur de  Camps. 

"Oh,  he  is  perfectly  right  again,"  said  the  ironmaster. 
"There  is  not  a  sign  of  what  we  saw  this  morning.  He  had 
worried  himself  over  his  work ;  exercise  has  done  him  good ; 
and  yet  it  is  to  be  observed  that  he  had  an  unpleasant  shock 
just  now  at  the  Minister's." 

"Why,  what  happened?"  asked  Madame  de  1'Estorade. 

"Your  friend  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  business  seems  to 
be  in  a  bad  way." 

"Thank  you  for  nothing!"  said  Monsieur  de  PEstorade, 
returning  the  letter  to  his  wife.  "I  shall  certainly  not  do 
anything  he  asks  me." 

"Then  have  you  heard  anything  against  him?"  said  she, 
trying  to  appear  perfectly  indifferent  as  she  asked  the  ques- 
tion. 

"Yes;  Eastignac  told  me  that  he  had  letters  from  Arcis; 
some  very  awkward  discoveries  have  been  made  there." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  369 

"Well,  what  did  I  tell  you?"  cried  Madame  de  1'Estorade. 

"What  did  you  tell  me?" 

"To  be  sure.  Did  I  not  give  you  a  hint  some  time  ago 
that  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  was  a  man  to  be  let  drop  ?  Those 
were  the  very  words  I  used,  as  I  happen  to  remember." 

"But  was  it  I  who  brought  him  here?" 

"You  can  hardly  say  that  it  was  I. — Only  just  now,  before 
knowing  anything  of  the  distressing  facts  you  have  just 
learned,  I  was  speaking  to  Madame  de  Camps  of  another  rea- 
son which  should  make  us  anxious  to  put  an  end  to  the  ac- 
quaintance." 

"Very  true,"  said  Madame  de  Camps.  "Your  wife,  but  a 
minute  ago,  was  talking  of  the  sort  of  frenzy  that  possesses 
Nais  with  regard  to  her  preserver,  and  she  foresaw  great 
difficulties  in  the  future." 

"It  is  an  unsatisfactory  connection  in  every  way^"  said 
Monsieur  de  1'Estorade. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Monsieur  de  Camps,  who  was  not 
behind  the  scenes,  "that  you  are  rather  in  a  hurry.  Some 
compromising  discoveries  are  said  to  have  been  made  with 
reference  to  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve,  but  what  is  the  value  of 
these  discoveries?  Wait  before  you  hang  him,  at  least  till 
he  has  been  tried." 

"My  husband  can  do  what  he  thinks  proper,"  said  the 
Countess.  "For  my  part,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  throw  him 
over  at  once.  My  friends,  like  Caesar's  wife,  must  be  above 
suspicion." 

"The  awkward  thing,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  "is 
that  we  are  under  such  an  annoying  obligation  to  him " 

"But,  really,"  exclaimed  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  "if  a  con- 
vict had  saved  my  life,  should  I  be  obliged  to  receive  him  in 
my  drawing-room?" 

"Indeed,  my  dear,  you  are  going  too  far,"  said  Madame 
de  Camps. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  "there  is  no 
occasion  to  raise  a  scandal;  things  must  be  allowed  to  take 


370  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

their  course.  The  dear  man  is  abroad  now ;  who  knows  if 
he  will  ever  come  back?'' 

"What,  he  has  fled  at  a  mere  rumor?7'  said  Monsieur  de 
Camps. 

"Not  precisely  on  that  account,"  replied  the  Count.  "He 
had  a  pretext — but  once  out  of  France " 

"As  to  that  conclusion,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  "I  do 
not  for  a  moment  believe  in  it.  His  pretext  is  a  good  reason, 
and  as  soon  as  he  hears  from  his  friend  the  organist  he  will 
hurry  back.  So,  my  dear,  you  must  take  your  courage  in  both 
hands  and  cut  the  intimacy  short  at  a  blow  if  you  do  not  in- 
tend it  to  continue." 

"And  that  is  really  your  meaning?"  said  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade,  looking  keenly  at  his  wife. 

"I? — I  would  write  to  him  without  any  sort  of  ceremony, 
and  tell  him  that  he  will  oblige  us  by  calling  here  no  more. 
At  the  same  time,  as  it  is  a  little  difficult  to  write  such  a 
letter,  we  will  concoct  it  together  if  you  like." 

"We  will  see,"  said  her  husband,  beaming  at  the  sugges- 
tion ;  "the  house  is  not  falling  yet.  The  most  pressing  matter 
at  the  moment  is  the  flower-show  we  are  to  go  to  together. 
It  closes,  I  think,  at  four  o'clock,  and  we  have  but  an  hour 
before  us." 

Madame  de  1'Estorade,  who  had  dressed  before  Madame 
de  Camps'  arrival,  rang  for  the  maid  to  bring  her  bonnet 
and  shawl. 

As  she  was  putting  them  on  in  front  of  a  glass : 

"Then  you  really  love  me,  Kenee?"  said  her  husband  in 
her  ear. 

"Can  you  be  so  silly  as  to  ask?"  replied  she,  giving  him 
her  most  affectionate  look. 

"Well,  I  have  a  confession  to  make  to  you — I  read  the 
letter  Philippe  brought." 

"Then  I  am  no  longer  surprised  at  the  change  that  came 
over  you.  I  too  must  tell  you  something.  When  I  proposed 
that  we  should  concoct  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  dismissal 
between  us,  I  had  already  written  it — directly  after  you  went 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  371 

out;  and  you  can  take  it  out  of  my  blotting-book  and  post  it 
if  you  think  it  will  do." 

Quite  beside  himself  with  joy  at  finding  that  his  hypo- 
thetical successor  had  been  so  immediately  sacrificed,  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade  threw  Itis  arms  round  his  wife  and  kissed 
her  effusively. 

"Well  done!"  cried  Monsieur  de  Camps.  "This  is  better 
than  this  morning !" 

"This  morning  I  was  a  fool,"  said  the  Count,  as  he  turned 
over  the  blotting-book  to  find  the  letter,  which  he  might  have 
taken  his  wife's  word  for. 

"Say  no  more,"  said  Madame  de  Camps  in  an  undertone 
to  her  husband.  "I  will  explain  all  this  pother  to  you  pres- 
ently." 

Younger  again  by  ten  years,  the  Count  offered  his  arm  to 
Madame  de  Camps,  while  his  wife  took  the  ironmaster's. 

"And  Nais  ?"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  seeing  the  little 
girl  looking  forlorn  as  they  went.  "Is  not  she  coming  too?" 

"No,"  said  her  mother;  "I  am  not  pleased  with  her." 

"Pooh !"  said  the  father,  "I  proclaim  an  amnesty: — Eun 
and  put  your  bonnet  on,"  he  added  to  the  child. 

Nais  looked  at  her  mother  for  the  ratification  which  she 
thought  necessary  under  the  hierarchy  of  power  as  it  existed 
in  the  1'Estorade  household. 

"Go,"  said  the  Countess,  "since  your  father  wishes  it." 

While  they  waited  for  the  little  girl : 

"To  whom  are  you  writing,  Lucas  ?"  asked  the  Count  of  the 
man-servant,  who  had  begun  a  letter  on  the  table  by  which 
he  stood. 

"To  my  son,"  said  Lucas,  "who  is  very  anxious  to  get  his 
sergeant's  stripes.  I  am  telling  him  that  you  promised  me  a 
note  to  his  colonel,  Monsieur  le  Comte." 

"Perfectly  true,  on  my  honor;  and  I  had  quite  forgotten 
it.  Remind  me  to-morrow  morning;  I  will  write  it  the  first 
thing  when  I  get  up." 

"You  are  very  good,  sir " 

"Here,"  said  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade,  putting  his  fingers 


372  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

iii  his  waistcoat  pocket  and  taking  out  three  gold  pieces,  "send 
these  to  the  corporal  from  me,  and  tell  him  to  get  his  men 
to  drink  to  his  stripes." 

Lucas  was  amazed;  he  had  never  known  his  master  so 
genial  and  liberal. 

When  ISTais  was  ready,  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  proud  of  hav- 
ing had  the  courage  to  leave  her  in  disgrace  for  half  an  hour, 
hugged  her  as  if  she  had  not  seen  her  for  two  years ;  then  they 
all  set  out  for  the  Luxembourg,  where  the  Horticultural 
Society  at  that  time  held  its  shows. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  interview  which  Monsieur  Octave 
de  Camps,  under  the  auspices  of  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade, 
had  at  last  been  able  to  get  with  Eastignac,  the  Minister's 
usher  had  come  in  to  give  him  the  cards  of  Monsieur  le  Pro- 
cureur-General  Vinet  and  Monsieur  Maxime  de  Trailles. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Minister.  "Tell  the  gentlemen  I 
will  see  them  in  a  few  minutes/' 

Soon  after,  the  ironmaster  and  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  rose 
to  leave;  and  it  was  then  that  Rastignac  had  briefly  told  the 
Count  of  the  danger  looming  on  the  parliamentary  horizon 
of  his  friend  Sallenauve.  At  the  word  "friend,"  Monsieur 
de  1'Estorade  had  protested. 

"I  do  not  know,  my  dear  Minister,"  said  he,  "why  you 
persist  in  giving  that  name  to  a  man  who  is  really  no  more 
than  an  acquaintance,  I  might  say  a  provisional  acquaintance, 
if  the  reports  you  have  mentioned  should  prove  to  have  any 
foundation." 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  so,"  replied  Rastignac. 
"For  in  the  thick  of  the  hostilities  which  seem  likely  to  arise 
between  that  gentleman  and  our  side,  I  confess  that  the  warm 
feeling  I  imagined  you  to  have  towards  him  would  somewhat 
have  fettered  me." 

"I  am  grateful  for  your  consideration,"  replied  the  Count ; 
"but  pray  understand  that  I  give  you  a  free  hand.  It  is  a 
matter  entirely  at  your  discretion  to  treat  Monsieur  de  Salle- 
nauve as  a  political  foe,  without  any  fear  that  the  blows  you 
deal  him  will  at  all  hurt  me." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  373 

Thereupon  they  left,  and  Messieurs  Vinet  and  de  Trailles 
had  been  shown  in. 

Vinet,  the  Attorney-General,  and  father  of  Olivier  Vinet, 
whom  the  reader  already  knows,  was  one  of  the  warmest 
champions  and  most  welcome  advisers  of  the  existing  Govern- 
ment. Designate  as  the  Minister  of  Justice  at  the  next 
shuffling  of  the  Cabinet,  he  was  behind  the  scenes  of  every 
ambiguous  situation ;  and  in  every  secret  job  nothing  was  con- 
cocted without  his  co-operation,  in  the  plot  at  least,  if  not 
in  the  doing. 

The  electoral  affairs  of  Arcis  had  a  twofold  claim  on  his 
interference:  First,  because  his  son  held  a  position  among 
the  legal  magnates  of  the  town;  secondly,  because  as  con- 
nected through  his  wife  with  the  Chargeboeufs  of  la  Brie,  the 
Cinq-Cygnes  of  Champagne  being  a  younger  branch  of  that 
family,  this  aristocratic  alliance  made  him  think  it  a  point 
of  honor  to  assert  his  importance  in  both  districts,  and  never 
to  miss  a  chance  of  interfering  in  their  affairs. 

So,  that  morning,  when  Monsieur  de  Trailles  had  called 
on  the  Minister  armed  with  a  letter  from  Madame  Beau- 
visage,  full  of  compromising  scandal  concerning  the  new 
Member  for  Arcis: 

"Find  Vinet,  as  coming  from  me,"  said  Eastignac,  without 
listening  to  any  explanations,  "and  try  to  bring  him  here  as 
soon  as  possible." 

At  Maxime's  bidding — who  offered  to  fetch  him  in  his 
carriage — Vinet  was  quite  ready  to  go  to  Rastignac ;  and  now 
that  he  has  made  his  way  to  the  Minister's  private  room,  we 
shall  be  better  informed  as  to  the  danger  hanging  over  SaUe- 
nauve's  head,  of  which  Jacques  Bricheteau  and  Monsieur  de 
1'Estorade  have  given  us  but  a  slight  idea. 

"Then  you  mean,  my  dear  friends,"  said  the  Minister  as 
soon  as  they  had  settled  to  their  talk,  "that  we  may  get  some 
hold  on  this  political  purist ! — I  met  him  yesterday  at  1'Esto- 
rade's,  and  he  struck  me  as  most  undauntedly  hostile." 

Maxime,  whose  presence  was  in  no  sense  official,  knew  better 
than  to  answer  this  remark.  Vinet,  on  the  contrary,  almost 


374  THE  MEMBER  FOB  ARCIS 

insolently  conscious  of  his  political  importance,  Public  Pros- 
ecutor as  he  was,  had  too  much  of  the  advocate  in  his  com- 
position to  miss  a  chance  of  speaking. 

"When,  only  this  morning,  monsieur" — and  he  bowed  to 
Maximo — "did  me  the  honor  to  communicate  to  me  a  letter 
he  had  received  from  Madame  Beauvisage,  I  had  just  had 
one  from  my  son,  in  which  he  gave  me,  with  slight  variations, 
the  same  information.  I  agree  with  him  that  the  matter 
looks  ugly  for  our  adversary — but  it  will  need  nice  manage- 
ment." 

"I  really  hardly  know  what  the  matter  is,"  said  the  Minis- 
ter. "As  I  particularly  wished  for  your  opinion  on  the  case, 
my  dear  Vinet,  I  begged  Monsieur  de  Trailles  to  postpone 
the  details  till  we  were  all  three  together. 

This  was  authorizing  Maxime  to  proceed  with  the  narrative, 
but  Vinet  again  seized  the  opportunity  for  hearing  his  own 
voice. 

"This,"  said  he,  "is  what  my  son  Olivier  writes  to  me, 
confirming  Madame  Beauvisage's  letter — she,  I  may  say  in- 
cidentally, would  have  made  a  famous  Member  of  Parliament, 
my  dear  sir. — On  a  market  day  not  long  since,  Pigoult  the 
notary,  who  has  the  management  of  all  the  new  Member's 
business  matters,  received  a  visit,  it  would  seem,  from  a 
peasant  woman  from  Eomilly,  a  large  village  not  far  from 
Arcis.  To  hear  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  who  has  so  sud- 
denly reappeared,  you  would  think  that  he  was  the  only  ex- 
isting scion  of  the  Sallenauve  family ;  but  this  did  not  prevent 
this  woman  from  displaying  some  papers  in  due  form,  prov- 
ing that  she  too  is  a  living  Sallenauve,  in  the  direct  line, 
and  related  nearly  enough  to  claim  her  part  in  any  heritable 
property." 

"Well,"  said  Rastignac,  "but  did  she  know  no  more  of  the 
Marquis'  existence  than  he  knew  of  hers  ?" 

"That  did  not  plainly  appear  from  her  statements,"  said 
Vinet ;  "but  that  very  confusion  seems  to  me  most  convincing, 
for,  as  YOU  know,  between  relations  in  such  different  positions 
great  difficulties  are  apt  to  arise." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  375 

"Kindly  proceed  with  the  story,"  said  the  Minister.  "Be- 
fore drawing  conclusions,  we  must  hear  the  facts — though, 
as  you  know  by  experience,  that  is  not  the  invariable  prac- 
tice in  Parliament." 

"Not  always  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  Ministers,"  said 
Maxime,  laughing. 

"Monsieur  is  right,"  said  Vinet;  "all  hail  to  a  successful 
muddler ! — But  to  return  to  our  peasant  woman,  who,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  ruin  of  the  Sallenauve  family,  has  fallen  into 
great  poverty  and  a  station  far  beneath  her  birth;  she  first 
appeared  as  a  petitioner  for  money,  and  it  seems  probable  that 
prompt  and  liberal  generosity  would  have  kept  her  quiet. 
But  it  is  also  likely  that  she  was  but  ill  pleased  by  Maitre 
Achille  Pigoult's  reception  of  her  demands;  for  on  leaving 
his  office  she  went  to  the  market  square,  and  seconded  by  a 
neighbor,  a  lawyer  from  the  village,  who  had  come  with  her, 
she  disburdened  herself  of  various  statements  relating  to  my 
highly-esteemed  fellow-member  which  were  not  very  natter- 
ing to  his  character ;  declaring  that  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve 
was  not  his  father ;  and  again,  that  there  was  no  Marquis  de 
Sallenauve  in  existence.  And  at  any  rate,  she  concluded, 
this  newly-made  Sallenauve  was  a  heartless  wretch  who  would 
have  nothing  to  say  to  his  relations.  But,  she  added,  she 
could  make  him  disgorge,  and,  with  the  help  of  the  clever  man 
who  had  come  with  her  to  support  her  by  his  advice,  Monsieur 
le  Depute  might  be  sure  that  they  'would  make  him  jump 
to  another  tune.' ': 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  objection,"  said  Kastignac.  "But 
the  woman  has,  I  suppose,  some  proof  in  support  of  her  state- 
ments?" 

"That  is  the  weak  point  of  the  matter,"  replied  Vinet. 
"But  let  me  go  on. — At  Arcis,  my  dear  sir,  the  Government 
has  a  remarkably  devoted  and  intelligent  servant  in  the  head 
of  the  police.  Moving  about  among  the  people,  which  is  his 
practice  on  market-days,  he  picked  up  some  of  the  woman's 
vicious  remarks,  and  going  off  at  once  to  the  Mayor's  house, 
he  asked  to  see,  not  the  Mayor  himself,  but  Madame  Beau- 
visage,  to  whom  he  told,  what  was  going  on." 


376  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Then  is  the  candidate  whom  you  had  chosen  for  a  crown- 
ing treat  a  perfect  idiot?"  Eastignac  asked  Maxime. 

"The  very  man  you  wanted/'  replied  Monsieur  de  Trailles, 
"imbecile  to  a  degree !  There  is  nothing  I  would  not  do  to 
reverse  this  vexatious  defeat." 

"Madame  Beauvisage,"  Vinet  went  on,  "at  once  thought 
she  would  like  to  talk  to  this  woman  of  the  ready  tongue ;  and 
to  get  hold  of  her,  it  was  not  a  bad  idea  to  desire  Groslier,  the 
police  sergeant,  to  go  and  fetch  her  with  a  sternly  threatening 
air,  as  if  the  authorities  disapproved  of  her  levity  in  using 
such  language  with  regard  to  a  member  of  the  National  Cham- 
ber, and  to  bring  her  forthwith  to  the  Mayor's  house." 

"And  it  was  Madame  Beauvisage,  you  say,  who  suggested 
this  method  of  procedure?"  said  Eastignac. 

"Oh  yes,  she  is  a  very  capable  woman,"  said  Maxime. 

"Driven  hard,"  continued  the  speaker,  "by  Madame  the 
Mayoress,  who  took  care  to  secure  her  husband's  presence  at 
the  cross-examination,  the  woman  proved  to  be  anything 
rather  than  coherent.  How  she  had  ascertained  that  the 
Member  could  not  be  the  Marquis'  son ;  and  her  confident  as- 
sertion, on  the  other  hand,  that  the  Marquis  did  not  even 
exist,  were  not  by  any  means  conclusively  proved.  Hearsay, 
vague  reports,  inferences  drawn  by  her  village  attorney  were 
the  best  of  the  evidence  she  could  bring." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Eastignac,  "what  is  the  upshot  of  it 
all?" 

"Nil  from  the  legal  point  of  view,"  replied  Vinet.  "For 
even  if  the  woman  could  prove  that  it  is  a  mere  whim  on  the 
part  of  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve  to  recognize  the  man  Dor- 
lange  as  his  son,  she  would  have  no  ground  for  an  action  in 
disproof.  According  to  section  339  of  the  Civil  Code,  a  posi- 
tive and  congenital  right  alone  can  give  grounds  for  disput- 
ing the  recognition  of  a  natural  child;  in  other  words,  there 
must  be  a  direct  claim  on  the  property  in  which  the  child 
whose  birth  is  disputed  is  enabled  to  claim  a  share." 

"Your  balloon  collapsed  !"  observed  the  Minister. 

"Whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  good  woman  chooses 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  377 

to  dispute  the  existence  of  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  she 
would  disinherit  herself,  since  she  certainly  has  no  claim  on 
the  estate  of  a  man  who  would  then  be  no  relation  of  hers; 
besides,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  crown,  and  not  her  part  at  all, 
to  prosecute  for  the  assumption  of  a  false  identity ;  the  utmost 
she  could  do  would  be  to  bring  the  charge." 

"Whence  you  conclude?"  said  Eastignac,  with  the  sharp 
brevity  which  warns  a  too  diffuse  talker  to  abridge  his  story. 

"Whence  I  conclude,  legally  speaking,  that  this  Romilly 
peasant,  by  taking  up  either  charge  as  the  basis  for  an  action, 
would  find  it  a  bad  speculation,  since  in  one  case  she  must 
obviously  lose,  and  in  the  other — which,  in  fact,  she  cannot 
even  bring — she  would  get  nothing  out  of  it.  But,  politically 
speaking,  it  is  quite  another  story." 

"Let  us  see  the  political  side  then,"  said  Rastignac;  "for, 
so  far,  I  can  make  nothing  of  it." 

"In  the  first  place,"  replied  the  lawyer,  "you  will  agree 
with  me  that  it  is  always  possible  to  fight  a  bad  case?" 

"Certainly." 

"And,  then,  I  do  not  suppose  that  you  would  care  whether 
this  woman  fights  an  action  which  would  only  end  in  her  hav- 
ing to  pay  a  lawyer's  bill." 

"No;  I  confess  it  is  a  matter  to  me  of  perfect  indiffer- 
ence." 

"And  if  you  had  cared,  I  should,  all  the  same,  have  advised 
you  to  let  matters  take  their  course ;  for  the  Beauvisages  have 
undertaken  all  the  costs,  including  a  visit  to  Paris  for  this 
woman  and  her  legal  adviser." 

"Well,  well — the  action  brought,  what  comes  of  it?"  said 
Rastignac,  anxious  to  end. 

"What  comes  of  it?"  cried  the  lawyer,  warming  to  the 
subject.  "Why,  everything  you  can  manage  to  make  of  it, 
if,  before  it  is  argued,  you  can  work  up  comments  in  the  pa- 
pers and  insinuations  from  your  friends. — What  comes  of  it  ? 
Why,  the  utmost  discredit  for  our  antagonist,  if  he  is  sus- 
pected of  having  assumed  a  name  he  has  no  right  to. — 


378  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

What  comes  of  it?  Why,  an  opportunity  for  a  fulminating 
speech  in  the  Chamber " 

"Which  you,  no  doubt,  will  undertake?"  asked  Kastignac. 

"Oh,  I  do  not  know.  The  case  must  be  thoroughly  studied ; 
I  must  see  what  turn  it  is  likely  to  take." 

"Then  for  the  moment,"  the  Minister  observed,  "it  is  all 
reduced  to  an  application,  hit  or  miss,  of  Basile's  famous 
theory  of  calumny — that  it  is  always  well  to  keep  it  stirred, 
and  that  something  will  stick." 

"Calumny?  Calumny?"  replied  Vinet.  "That  we  shall 
see ;  it  may  be  no  more  than  honest  evil-speaking.  Monsieur 
de  Trailles,  here,  knows  what  went  on  much  better  than  we 
do.  He  will  tell  you  that  all  through  the  district  the  father's 
disappearance  as  soon  as  he  had  legally  acknowledged  his  son 
had  the  very  worst  effect;  that  everybody  retained  a  vague 
impression  of  mysterious  complications  to  favor  the  election 
of  this  man  we  are  talking  about. 

"You  have  no  idea,  my  dear  fellow,  what  can  be  got  out 
of  a  lawsuit  cleverly  kept  simmering,  and  in  my  long  and 
busy  career  as  a  pleader  I  have  seen  miracles  worked  by  such 
means.  A  parliamentary  struggle  is  quite  another  matter. 
There  proof  is  not  needed ;  you  may  kill  your  man  with  noth- 
ing but  hypotheses  and  asseverations  if  you  stick  to  them 
defiantly  enough." 

"Well,  to.  sum  up,"  said  Kastignac,  speaking  as  a  man  of 
method,  "how  do  you  recommend  that  the  affair  should  be 
managed  ?" 

"In  the  first  place,"  replied  the  lawyer,  "I  should  allow 
the  Beauvisages — since  they  have  a  fancy  for  it — to  pay  all 
the  expenses  of  moving  the  peasant  woman  and  her  friend, 
and  subsequently  the  costs  of  the  action." 

"Do  I  make  any  objection?"  said  the  Minister.  "Have  I 
either  the  right  or  the  means  ?" 

"The  case,"  Vinet  went  on,  "must  be  put  into  the  hands 
of  a  wily  and  clever  lawyer:  Desroches,  for  instance,  Monsieur 
de  Trailles'  lawyer.  He  will  know  how  to  fill  out  the  body  of 
a  case  which,  as  you  justly  observe,  is  very  thin." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  379 

"I  certainly  should  not  say  to  Monsieur  de  Trailles,  'I  for- 
bid you  to  allow  anybody  you  please  to  secure  the  services  of 
your  solicitor/  "  said  Rastignac. 

"Then  we  want  an  advocate  who  can  talk  with  an  air  of 
'The  Family'  as  a  sacred  and  precious  thing;  who  will  wax 
indignant  at  the  surreptitious  intrigues  by  which  a  man  may 
scheme  to  insinuate  himself  within  its  holy  pale." 

"Desroches  can  find  your  man;  and  again,  the  Govern- 
ment is  not  likely  to  hinder  a  pleader  from  talking,  or  from 
being  transported  with  indignation !" 

"But,  Monsieur  le  Ministre,"  Maxime  put  in,  startled  out 
of  his  attitude  of  passive  attention  by  Eastignac's  indiffer- 
ence, "is  non-interference  all  the  support  to  be  hoped  for 
from  the  Government  in  this  struggle?" 

"I  hope  you  did  not  think  that  we  should  take  up  the  action 
on  our  own  account?" 

"No,  of  course  not ;  but  we  had  a  right  to  imagine  that  you 
would  take  some  interest  in  it." 

"How — in  what  way?" 

"How  can  I  tell?  As  Monsieur  Vinet  was  saying  just 
now,  by  tuck  of  drum  in  the  subsidized  newspapers — by  get- 
ting your  supporters  to  spread  the  gossip — by  using  the  in- 
fluence which  men  in  power  always  have  over  the  Bench." 

"Thank  you  for  nothing,"  said  the  Minister.  "When  you 
want  to  secure  the  Government  as  an  accomplice,  my  dear 
Maxime,  you  must  have  a  rather  more  solidly  constructed 
scheme  to  show.  Your  air  of  business  this  morning  made  me 
think  you  really  had  a  strong  hand,  and  I  have  troubled  our 
excellent  friend  the  Public  Prosecutor,  who  knows  how  high 
a  value  I  set  on  his  learning  and  advice ;  but  really  your  plot 
strikes  me  as  too  transparent,  and  the  meshes  so  thin  that 
I  can  see  through  them  an  inevitable  defeat.  If  I  were  a 
bachelor  and  wanted  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Beauvisage,  I 
daresay  I  might  be  bolder,  so  I  leave  it  to  you  to  carry  on 
the  action  in  any  way  you  please.  I  will  not  say  that  Govern- 
ment will  not  watch  your  progress  with  its  best  wishes ;  but  it 
certainly  will  not  tread  the  path  with  you." 


380 

"Well,  well,"  said  Vinet,  hindering  Maxime's  reply,  which 
would,  no  doubt,  have  been  a  bitter  one,  "but  supposing  we 
take  the  matter  into  court;  supposing  that  the  peasant  wo- 
man, prompted  by  the  Beauvisages,  should  denounce  the  man 
who  was  identified  before  the  notary  as  being  a  spurious 
Sallenauve;  then  the  Member  is  guilty  of  conspiracy,  and 
for  that  we  have  him  before  the  superior  court." 

"But,  again,  where  are  your  proofs?"  asked  Rastignac. 
"Have  you  a  shadow  of  evidence  ?" 

"You  admitted  just  now,"  observed  Maxime,  "that  a  bad 
case  may  be  fought  out." 

"A  civil  action,  yes;  a  criminal  charge  is  quite  another 
matter.  And  this  would  break  down,  for  it  means  disputing 
the  validity  of  an  act  drawn  up  by  a  public  official,  and  with- 
out a  particle  of  proof.  A  pretty  piece  of  work !  The  case 
would  be  simply  dismissed  before  it  came  to  be  argued  in 
court.  If  we  wanted  to  perch  our  enemy  on  a  pedestal  as 
high  as  the  column  of  July,  we  could  not  go  about  it  more 
effectually." 

"So  that  in  your  opinion  there  is  nothing  to  be  done?" 
asked  Maxime. 

"By  us — nothing. — But  you,  my  dear  Maxime,  who  have 
no  official  position,  and  can  at  a  pinch  use  your  pistol  in 
support  of  the  attack  on  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  character 
— there  is  nothing  to  hinder  you  from  trying  your  luck  in  the 
contest." 

"Yes,"  said  Maxime  petulantly,  "I  am  a  sort  of  (con- 
dottiere!'" 

"Not  at  all;  you  are  a  man  with  an  instinctive  conviction 
of  certain  facts  that  cannot  be  legally  proved,  and  you  would 
not  be  afraid  to  stand  at  the  judgment  seat  of  God." 

Monsieur  de  Trailles  rose,  considerably  annoyed.  Vinet 
also  rose,  and  giving  Rastignac  his  hand  as  he  took  leave: 

"I  cannot  deny,"  said  he,  "that  your  conduct  is  dictated  by 
great  prudence;  and  I  will  not  say  but  that  in  your  place 
I  should  do  the  same." 

"No  ill-feeling,  at  any  rate,  Maxime,"  said  the  Minister, 
and  Maxime  bowed  with  icy  dignity. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  381 

When  the  two  conspirators  were  in  the  outer  room  alone: 

"Do  you  understand  what  this  prudery  means?"  asked 
Maxime. 

"Perfectly,"  said  Vinet,  "and  for  a  clever  man  you  seem 
to  me  easily  taken  in." 

"No  doubt — making  you  lose  your  time,  besides  losing 
my  own  to  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing  a  man  lay  himself 
out  for  the  reward  of  virtue " 

"It  is  not  that.  I  think  you  very  guileless  to  believe 
in  the  refusal  of  support  that  had  vexed  you  so  much." 

"What  ?     You  think " 

"I  think  that  the  business  is  a  toss-up.  If  the  plan  suc- 
ceeds, the  Government,  sitting  with  its  arm  folded,  will  get 
all  the  benefit;  if,  on  the  contrary,  success  is  not  for  us,  it 
would,  as  soon  as  not,  keep  out  of  the  risk  of  defeat.  But, 
take  my  word  for  it,  I  know  Rastignac;  looking  quite  im- 
passive, and  without  compromising  himself  at  all,  he  will 
perhaps  serve  us  better  than  by  outspoken  connivance. — Just 
reflect:  Did  he  say  a  single  word  against  the  moral  side 
of  the  attack  ?  Did  he  not  repeat  again  and  again — 'I  make 
no  objection.  I  have  no  right  to  hinder  you.'  And  what 
fault  had  he  to  find  with  the  snake's  venom  ?  That  its  action 
was  not  deadly  enough !  The  fact  is,  my  dear  sir,  that  there 
will  be  a  sharp  tug  of  war,  and  it  will  take  all  Desroches' 
skill  to  put  a  good  face  on  the  business." 

"Then  you  think  I  had  better  see  him?" 

"Do  I  think  so? — Why,  this  moment,  when  we  part." 

"Do  not  you  think  it  would  be  well  that  he  should  go  and 
talk  matters  over  with  you?" 

"No,  no,  no !"  said  Vinet.  "I  may  be  the  man  to  do  the 
talking  in  the  Chamber.  Desroches  might  be  seen  at  my 
house,  and  I  must  seem  immaculate." 

Thereupon  he  bowed  to  Maxime,  and  left  him  in  some 
haste,  excusing  himself  by  having  to  go  to  the  Chamber  and 
hear  what  was  going  on. 

"And  if  I,"  said  Maxime,  running  after  him  as  he  left, 
"if  I  should  need  your  advice?" 


382  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"I  am  leaving  Paris  this  evening  to  look  after  my  court 
in  the  country  before  the  session  opens." 

"And  the  question  in  the  Chamber  that  you  may  be  called 
upon  to  ask?" 

"Oh,  if  it  is  not  I,  it  will  be  some  one  else.  I  shall  return 
as  soon  as  possible;  but  you  will  understand  that  I  must 
set  my  shop  in  order  before  I  come  away  for  at  least 
five  or  six  months." 

"Then  Bon  voyage,  monsieur/'  said  Maxime  sarcastically, 
and  parting  from  him  at  last. 

Monsieur  de  Trailles,  left  to  himself,  stood  a  little  dis- 
concerted as  he  fancied  that  here  were  two  political  Bertrands, 
each  intending  that  he  should  snatch  the  chestnuts  from  the 
fire. 

Eastignac's  behavior  especially  nettled  him  when  he  looked 
back  on  their  first  meeting,  just  twenty  years  ago,  at  Madame 
de  Eestaud's.  He,  then  already  a  formed  man  holding  the 
sceptre  of  fashion,  and  Eastignac  a  poor  student,  not  know- 
ing how  to  enter  or  leave  a  room,  and  dismissed  from  the 
door  of  that  handsome  house  when  he  called  after  his  first 
visit,  in  the  course  of  which  he  had  contrived  to  commit  two 
or  three  incongruous  blunders ! — And  now  Eastignac  was  a 
Peer  of  France  and  in  office;  while  he,  Maxime,  no  more 
than  his  tool,  was  obliged  to  listen  with  grounded  arms  when 
he  was  told  that  his  man-traps  were  too  artless,  and  that  if 
he  fancied  them,  he  must  work  them  alone. 

But  this  prostration  was  but  a  lightning  flash. 

"Well,  then!"  he  said  to  himself.  "Yes,  I  will  try  the 
game  single-handed.  My  instinct  assures  me  that  there  is 
something  in  it. 

"What  next !  A  Dorlange,  a  nobody,  is  to  keep  me  in 
check,  Comte  Maxime  de  Trailles,  and  make  my  defeat  a 
stepping-stone?  There  are  too  many  dark  places  in  that 
rogue's  past  life  for  it  not  to  be  possible  sooner  or  later 
to  open  one  to  the  light  of  day — 

"To  the  lawyer's,"  said  he  to  the  coachman  as  he  opened 
his  carriage  door. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  383 

And  when  he  was  comfortably  seated  on  the  cushions: 
"After  all,  if  I  cannot  succeed  in  overthrowing  this  up- 
start, I  will  put  myself  in  the  way  of  his  insulting  me;  I 
shall  have  the  choice  of  weapons,  and  will  fire  first.  I  will 
do  better  than  the  Due  de  Bhetore,  my  insolent  friend !  I 
will  kill  you,  never  fear!" 

It  may  be  observed  that  Monsieur  Maxime  de  Trailles 
had  been  quite  upset  by  the  mere  idea  of  being  taken  for  a 
condottiere. 

Desroches  was  at  home,  and  Monsieur  de  Trailles  was 
at  once  shown  in  to  his  private  room. 

Desroches  was  an  attorney  who,  like  Raphael,  had  had 
•many  manners.  Having  in  the  first  instance  taken  over  an 
office  without  a  connection,  he  had  left  no  stone  unturned, 
taking  every  case  that  offered,  and  had  found  himself  in 
very  poor  esteem  in  court.  But  he  was  hard-working,  well 
up  in  all  the  tricks  and  windings  of  legal  technicalities,  an 
acute  observer  and  keen  reader  of  every  impulse  of  the  human 
heart;  thus  he  had  finally  made  a  very  good  connection, 
had  married  a  woman  with  a  fine  fortune,  and  had  given  up 
all  pettifogging  double-dealing  as  soon  as  he  could  make 
his  way  without  it. 

By  1839  Desroches  was  an  honest  attorney  in  good  prac- 
tice; that  is  to  say,  he  conducted  his  clients'  business  with 
zeal  and  skill;  he  never  would  countenance  any  underhand 
proceedings,  much  less  would  he  have  lent  them  a  hand.  As 
to  the  fine  bloom  of  delicate  honesty  which  existed  in  Der- 
ville  and  some  other  men  of  that  stamp,  besides  the  impos- 
sibility of  preserving  it  from  rubbing  off  in  the  world  of 
business — in  which,  as  Monsieur  de  Talleyrand  said,  "Busi- 
ness means  other  people's  money" — it  can  never  be  the  second 
development  of  any  life.  The  loss  of  that  down  of  the  soul, 
like  that  of  anything  virginal,  is  irreparable;  so  Desroches 
had  made  no  attempt  to  restore  it.  He  would  have  nothing 
to  say  to  what  was  ignoble  or  dishonest;  but  the  above-board 
tricks  allowed  by  the  Code  of  Procedure,  the  recognized  sur- 


384  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

prises  and  villainies  to  steal  a  march  on  an  adversary,  he  was 
ready  to  allow. 

Then,  Desroches  was  an  amusing  fellow;  he  liked  good 
living;  and,  like  all  men  who  are  incessantly  absorbed  by 
the  imperious  demands  of  hard  thinking,  he  felt  a  craving 
for  highly-spiced  enjoyments  snatched  in  haste,  and  strong  to 
the  palate.  So,  while  he  had  by  degrees  cleansed  his  ways 
as  a  lawyer,  he  was  still  the  favorite  attorney  of  men  of 
letters,  artists,  and  actresses,  of  popular  courtesans  and  dandy 
bohemians  such  as  Maxime;  because  he  was  content  to  live 
their  life,  all  these  people  attracted  him,  and  all  relished  his 
society.  Their  slang  and  wit,  their  rather  lax  moral  views, 
their  somewhat  picaresque  adventures,  their  expedients,  their 
brave  and  honorable  toil — in  short,  all  their  greatness  and  all' 
their  misery  were  perfectly  understood  by  him,  and  like  an 
ever-indulgent  providence,  he  gave  them  advice  and  help 
whenever  they  asked  for  them. 

But  to  the  end  that  his  serious  and  paying  clients  should 
not  discover  what  might  be  somewhat  compromising  in  hia 
intimacy  with  these  clients  of  his  heart,  he  had  days  when 
he  was  the  husband  and  father — more  especially  Sundays. 
Rarely  did  he  fail  to  be  seen  in  his  quiet  little  carriage,  in 
the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  his  wife  by  his  side — the  largeness  of 
her  fortune  stamped  in  her  ugliness.  On  the  opposite  seat 
were  the  three  children  in  a  group,  all  unfortunately  like 
their  mother.  This  family  picture,  these  virtuous  Sunday 
habits,  were  so  unlike  the  week-day  Desroches,  dining  in  any 
pot-house  with  all  the  fastest  men  and  women  of  the  day, 
that  Malaga,  a  circus-rider,  famous  for  her  fun  and  smart 
sayings,  said  that  attorneys  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  play 
such  improbable  pranks,  and  cheat  the  public  by  showing  off 
papier-mache  children. 

So  it  was  to  this  relatively  honest  lawyer  that  Monsieur 
de  Trailles  had  come  for  advice,  as  he  never  failed  to  do  in 
every  more  or  less  tight  place  in  his  career.  Desroches,  as 
had  long  been  his  habit,  listened  without  interrupting  him 
to  the  long  statement  of  the  case  as  it  was  unfolded  to  him, 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  385 

including  the  scene  that  had  just  taken  place  at  Kastignac's. 
As  Maxime  had  no  secrets  from  this  confessor,  he  gave  all 
his  reasons  for  owing  Sallenauve  an  ill  turn,  and  represented 
him,  with  perfect  conviction,  as  having  stolen  the  name  under 
which  he  would  sit  in  the  Chamber.  His  hatred  appeared 
to  him  in  the  light  of  positive  evidence  of  a  felony  that  was 
hardly  probable  or  possible.  In  the  bottom  of  his  heart 
Desroches  had  no  wish  to  undertake  a  case  in  which  he  at 
once  foresaw  not  the  smallest  chance  of  success;  and  his  lax 
honesty  was  shown  in  his  talking  to  his  client  as  if  it  were 
a  quite  ordinary  legal  matter,  and  in  not  telling  him  point- 
blank  his  opinion  of  an  action  which  was  simply  an  intrigue. 

The  amount  of  wrong  that  is  done  by  such  verbal  con- 
nivance, that  never  goes  so  far  as  active  complicity,  is  really 
incalculable. — "What  concern  is  it  of  mine?  Let  them  fight 
it  out !  Why  should  I  set  up  for  being  the  bashful  knight 
of  virtue?"  This  is  what  men  of  Desroches'  nature  are  apt 
to  think,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  guess  at  their  number  in  a 
somewhat  advanced  state  of  civilization. 

"To  begin  with,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  attorney,  "a  civil 
action  is  not  to  be  thought  of:  if  your  Romilly  peasant  had 
her  pockets  full  of  proofs,  her  application  would  be  refused 
because,  so  far,  she  can  have  no  direct  interest  in  disputing 
the  affiliation  of  the  opposing  party." 

"Yes,  that  is  what  Vinet  said  just  now." 

"As  to  a  criminal  prosecution,  that,  of  course,  you 
might  bring  about  by  lodging  an  information  of  false  per- 
sonation." 

"Vinet  seemed  in  favor  of  that  course,"  said  Maxime. 

"Well,  but  there  are  many  objections  to  this  method  of 
procedure.  In  the  first  place,  merely  to  get  the  information 
heard,  you  must  have  something  resembling  proof;  next,  if 
the  information  is  lodged  and  the  Crown  decides  to  prosecute, 
to  get  a  verdict  there  must  be  far  stronger  evidence  of  the 
felony;  and  if,  after  all,  the  crime  were  proved  against  the 
self-styled  Marquis  de  Sallenauve,  how  are  you  to  show  that 


386  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

his  self-styled  son  is  in  the  conspiracy,  since  he  may  have 
been  deceived  by  an  impostor/' 

"But  what  motive  could  that  impostor  have,"  said  Maxime, 
"for  giving  this  Dorlange  all  the  advantages  that  accrue  to 
him  from  being  recognized  as  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve's 
son?" 

"Oh,  my  dear  fellow,"  replied  Desroches,  "when  }rou  come 
to  State  questions,  any  eccentricity  is  possible.  No  sort  of 
trials  or  actions  has  furnished  so  many  romances  to  the 
compilers  of  causes  celebres  or  to  novelists.  But  there  is 
another  point:  the  assumption  of  a  false  identity  is  not  in 
itself  a  crime  in  the  eye  of  the  law." 

"How  is  that?"  cried  Maxime.     "Impossible!" 

"Look  here,  my  lord,"  said  Desroches,  taking  down  the 
Five  Codes,  "have  the  kindness  to  read  section  145  of  the 
Penal  Code — the  only  one  which  seems  to  lend  an  opening  to 
the  action  you  propose  to  bring,  and  see  whether  the  mis- 
demeanor we  are  discussing  is  contemplated." 

Maxime  read  aloud  section  145,  as  follows: 

"Any  functionary  or  public  officer  who  shall  have  com- 
mitted forgery  in  the  exercise  of  his  functions — either  by 
forged  signatures,  or  by  defacing  and  altering  deeds,  docu- 
ments, or  signatures — or  by  assuming  a  false  identity — 

"There,  you  see,"  said  Maxime,  "false  identity — 

"Read  to  the  end,"  said  Desroches. 

"Or  by  altering  or  adding  to  a  register  or  any  other  public 
document,  after  it  has  been  legally  attested  and  sealed,  is 
liable  to  penal  servitude  for  life." 

Monsieur  de  Trailles  rolled  the  words  unctuously  on  his 
tongue  as  a  foretaste  of  the  fate  in  store  for  Sallcnauve. 

"My  dear  Count,"  said  Desroches,  "you  read  as  the  parties 
to  a  suit  always  do;  they  never  study  a  point  of  law  but 
from  their  own  side  of  the  case.  You  fail  to  observe  that,  in 
this  section,  mention  is  made  only  of  'functionaries  and  public 
officers';  it  has  no  bearing  on  the  false  identity  of  any  other 
class  of  person." 

Maxime  re-read  the  paragraph,  and  saw  that  Desroches  was 
right. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  387 

"Still,"  he  remarked,  "there  must  be  something  elsewhere 
to  that  effect?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind;  take  my  word  for  it  as  a  lawyer; 
the  Code  is  absolutely  silent  on  that  point." 

"Then  the  crime  we  should  inform  against  has  the  privilege 
of  impunity?" 

"That  is  to  say,"  replied  Desroches,  "that  its  punishment 
is  doubtful  at  best.  A  judge  sometimes  by  induction  ex- 
tends the  letter  of  the  law "  He  paused  to  turn  over  a 

volume  of  leading  cases. 

"Here,  you  see,  reported  in  Carnot's  Commentaries  on  the 
Penal  Code,  two  judgments  delivered  at  Assizes — one  of 
July  7,  1814,  and  the  other  of  April  24,  1818,  both  confirmed 
in  the  Court  of  Appeal,  which  condemned  certain  individuals 
who  were  neither  functionaries  nor  public  officers  for  assum- 
ing false  names  and  identity;  but  these  two  verdicts,  ex- 
ceptional in  every  way,  are  based  on  a  section  in  which  this 
particular  misdemeanor  is  not  even  mentioned,  and  it  was 
only  by  very  recondite  argument  that  it  was  brought  to  bear 
on  the  cases.  So  you  will  understand  that  the  outcome  of 
such  an  action  must  always  be  doubtful,  since,  in  the  absence 
of  any  positive  rule,  it  is  impossible  to  say  what  the  judges' 
decision  may  be." 

"Consequently,  it  is  your  opinion,  as  it  is  Eastignac's,  that 
we  may  send  our  countrywoman  back  to  Eomilly,  and  that 
there  is  nothing  to  be  done?" 

"There  is  always  something  to  be  done,"  replied  Desroches, 
"when  you  know  how  to  set  about  it.  There  is  a  further 
complication  which  does  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  you 
or  Monsieur  de  Rastignac,  or  even  to  Monsieur  Vinet;  and 
that  is  that,  apart  from  the  legal  point,  you  need  authority 
from  the  Chamber  before  you  can  prosecute  a  member  of  the 
representative  body  in  a  criminal  court." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Maxime ;  "but  how  does  a  further  com- 
plication help  us  out  of  our  difficulty?" 

"You  would  not  be  sorry,  I  fancy,"  said  the  lawyer,  laugh- 
ing, "to  send  your  enemy  to  the  hulks?" 


388  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"A  scoundrel,"  said  Maxime,  with  a  droll  twinkle,  "who 
has  perhaps  caused  me  to  miss  a  good  marriage,  who  sets 
up  for  austere  virtue,  and  allows  himself  such  audacious 
tricks !" 

"Well;  you  must,  nevertheless,  put  up  with  some  less 
showy  revenge.  If  you  create  a  scandal,  throw  utter  dis- 
credit on  your  man — that,  I  suppose,  would,  to  some  extent, 
achieve  your  end?" 

"No  doubt ;  half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no  bread." 

"Your  ideas  thus  reduced,  this  is  what  I  should  advise: 
Do  not  urge  your  woman  to  bring  an  action  against  this 
gentleman  who  annoys  you  so  much,  but  get  her  to  place  a 
petition  for  authority  to  prosecute  in  the  hands  of  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Chamber.  She  will  most  probably  not  obtain  it, 
and  the  affair  will  collapse  at  that  stage ;  but  the  fact  of  the 
application  will  be  rumored  in  the  Chamber,  the  papers  will 
have  every  right  to  mention  it,  and  the  Government  will  be 
free,  behind  the  scenes,  to  add  venom  to  the  imputation  by 
the  comments  of  its  supporters." 

"Peste!"  exclaimed  Maxime,  enchanted  at  seeing  an  outlet 
for  his  instincts  of  aversion,  "you  are  a  clever  fellow — far 
cleverer  than  all  your  self-styled  statesmen.  But  as  to  this 
petition  for  leave  to  prosecute,  who  can  draw  that  up  ?" 

"Not  I,"  replied  Desroches,  who  did  not  care  to  go  any 
further  in  such  dirty  work.  "What  you  want  is  not  a  judicial 
document,  but  a  weapon,  and  that  is  no  part  of  my  business. 
But  there  are  dozens  of  attorneys  without  clients  who  are 
always  ready  to  put  a  finger  into  a  political  pie — Hassol,  for 
instance,  will  do  your  job  as  well  as  any  man.  But  I  par- 
ticularly beg  that  you  will  not  mention  me  as  having  orig- 
inated the  idea." 

"Not  a  word,"  said  Maxime.  "I  will  take  the  responsi- 
bility, and  in  that  shape,  perhaps,  Rastignac  may  at  last 
swallow  the  scheme." 

"Mind  you  do  not  make  an  enemy  of  Vinet,  for  he  will 
think  you  have  taken  a  great  liberty  in  having  thought  of 
a  thing  that  ought  at  once  to  have  occurred  to  such  a  prac- 
tised parliamentary  tactician  as  he  is." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  389 

"Oh,  before  very  long,"  said  Maxime,  rising,  "I  hope  that 
Vinet,  IJastignac,  and  the  rest  well  have  to  reckon  with  me. 
— Where  are  you  dining  to-night?"  he  added. 

It  is  a  question  which  one  "man  about  town"  often  asks 
another. 

"In  a  cave,"  said  Desroches,  "with  the  banditti." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"Why,  in  the  course  of  your  erotic  experiences  you  have, 
no  doubt,  had  recourse  to  the  good  offices  of  an  old  ward- 
robe-buyer named  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  ?" 

"No,"  said  Maxime;  "I  always  manage  my  own  busi- 
ness." 

"Ah,  I  was  not  thinking,"  said  the  lawyer.  "You  have 
always  been  a  conqueror  in  high  life,  where  such  go-betweens 
are  not  employed.  However,  the  woman's  name  is  not  un- 
known to  you?" 

"Quite  true.  Her  shop  is  in  the  Hue  Saint-Marc.  It  was 
she  who  brought  about  the  meeting  between  Nucingen  and 
that  little  slut  Esther,  who  cost  him  something  like  five 
hundred  thousand  francs.  She  must  be  related  to  a  villain 
of  the  same  kidney  who  is  at  the  head  now  of  the  detective 
force,  and  goes  by  the  same  name." 

"That  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Desroches.  "But  I  can 
tell  you  this  much :  she  made  a  fortune  by  her  trade  as  dresser 
(appareilleuse,  as  it  was  called  at  a  time  when  the  world  was 
less  prudish  than  it  is  now),  and  to-day  the  worthy  lady  is 
magnificently  housed  in  the  Eue  de  Provence,  where  she  is  at 
the  head  of  a  matrimonial  agency." 

"And  you  are  dining  there?" 

"Yes,  my  dear  sir,  with  the  manager  of  the  Opera  House 
in  London,  with  fimile  Blondet,  Andoche  Finot,  Lousteau, 
Felicien  Vernou,  Theodore  Gaillard,  Hector  Merlin,  and 
Bixiou,  who  was  instructed  to  invite  me,  because  my  ex- 
perience and  great  knowledge  of  business  are  to  be  called 
into  play." 

"Bless  me !  is  there  some  great  financial  enterprise  at  the 
back  of  that  dinner?" 


390  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"A  joint-stock  undertaking,  my  dear  friend,  and  a  theatrical 
engagement,  and  I  am  to  read  through  the  two  agreements. 
As  regards  the  last,  you  understand  that  the  distinguished 
guests  invited  to  meet  me  will  proceed  to  blow  the  trumpet 
as  soon  as  the  deed  is  signed." 

"And  who  is  the  star  whose  engagement  needs  so  much 
ceremony." 

"Oh,  a  star  who  may  look  forward,  it  would  seem,  to  Eu- 
ropean glory !  An  Italian  woman  discovered  by  a  great 
Swedish  nobleman,  Count  Halphertius,  through  the  ministra- 
tions of  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve.  To  have  her  brought  out 
on  the  opera  stage  in  London,  the  illustrious  stranger  becomes 
a  sleeping  partner  with  the  Impresario  to  the  tune  of  a  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns/' 

"So  the  Swedish  Count  is  marrying  her?" 

"H'm,"  said  Desroches,  "I  have  not  as  yet  been  asked  to 
draw  up  the  settlements.  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,  as  you 
may  suppose,  still  has  some  connection  with  the  'thirteenth 
arrondissement'  in  her  agency  business." 

"Well,  my  good  fellow,  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  the  party," 
said  Maxime,  leaving.  "If  your  star  is  a  success  in  London, 
we  shall  probably  see  her  in  Paris  this  winter.  I  will  be  off 
to  put  a  spoke,  if  I  can,  in  the  chariot  wheels  of  the  rising 
sun  of  Arcis. — By  the  way,  where  does  Massol  live  ?" 

"On  my  word,  I  cannot  tell  you.  I  have  never  taken  him 
a  brief;  I  have  no  use  for  pleaders  who  meddle  in  politics; 
but  you  can  send  for  his  address  to  the  office  of  the  Gazette 
des  Tribunaux;  he  writes  for  it,  I  know." 

Maxime  himself  went  to  the  office  to  ask  where  Massol 
lived;  but  the  office-boy  had  strict  orders  not  to  give  his  ad- 
dress to  anybody,  probably  with  a  view  to  the  calls  of  duns; 
and  in  spite  of  his  hectoring  tone,  Monsieur  de  Trailles  had 
wasted  his  time,  and  could  not  obtain  the  information  he  had 
come  for.  He  fortunately  remembered  that  Massol  rarely 
missed  a  performance  at  the  Opera,  and  he  felt  tolerably  cer- 
tain of  finding  him  in  the  lounging-room  after  dinner. 

Before  dinner,  he  went  to  call  at  some  little  furnished  lodg- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  301 

ings  where  he  had  housed  the  peasant  woman  and  her  lawyer, 
who  had  already  come  to  Paris.  He  found  them  at  table,  and 
enjoying  a  capital  dinner  at  the  Beauvisages'  expense.  He 
desired  them  to  come  to  him  before  breakfast,  between  eleven 
and  twelve  next  morning.  In  the  evening  he  met  Massol, 
as  he  expected,  at  the  Opera.  Addressing  him  with  his  usual 
rather  haughty  politeness: 

"I  should  like  to  talk  with  you,  monsieur,"  said  he,  "over 
a  partly  legal  and  partly  political  matter.  If  it  were  not 
necessary  to  observe  the  strictest  secrecy  in  every  way,  I  would 
have  had  the  honor  of  calling  at  'your  office,  but  I  believe  we 
shall  discuss  it  in  greater  privacy  at  my  house,  where  I  can  put 
you  into  direct  communication  with  two  interested  persons. 
May  I  hope  that  you  will  give  me  the  pleasure  of  taking  a 
cup  of  tea  with  me  to-morrow  morning  soon  after  eleven  ?" 

If  Massol  had  in  fact  boasted  of  an  office,  for  the  dignity 
of  his  robe  he  would  perhaps  not  have  consented  to  reverse 
the  usual  order  of  things  by  going  to  a  client  instead  of  re- 
ceiving him  at  home.  But  as  he  perched  rather  than  lodged 
in  his  room,  he  was  glad  of  an  arrangement  which  preserved 
the  incognito  of  his  residence. 

"I  shall  have  the  honor  of  waiting  on  you  to-morrow  at  the 
hour  you  name,"  he  eagerly  replied. 

"You  know,"  said  Maxime,  "the  Rue  Pigalle?" 

"Perfectly,"  replied  Massol,  "close  to  the  Rue  de  la 
Rochefoucauld." 

On  the  evening  when  Sallenauve,  Marie-Gaston,  and 
Jacques  Bricheteau  had  gone  together  to  Saint-Sulpice  to 
hear  Signora  Luigia  sing,  a  little  incident  had  occurred  in 
the  church  which  had  scarcely  been  noticed.  Thfough  the 
little-used  door,  opening  on  the  Rue  Palatine,  opposite  the 
Rue  Servandoni,  a  fair-haired  youth  hastily  came  in.  He 
seemed  so  agitated  and  hurried  that  he  even  forgot  to  take  off 
a  cap  of  shiny  leather,  shaped  like  those  worn  by  the 
students  at  German  universities.  As  he  pushed  forward  to 
where  the  crowd  was  thickest,  he  felt  himself  gripped 


392  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

by  the  arm,  and  his  face,  which  was  florid  and  rosy,  turned 
lividly  pale;  but  on  turning  round  he  saw  that  he  had  been 
alarmed  without  cause.  It  was  only  the  Suisse,  or  beadle, 
who  said  in  impressive  tones: 

"Young  man,  is  your  cap  nailed  to  your  head  ?" 

"I  beg  pardon,  monsieur,"  said  the  youth.  "It  was  an 
oversight." 

And  after  obeying  this  lesson  in  reverence,  human  and 
divine,  he  lost  himself  in  the  densest  part  of  the  crowd, 
through  which  he  roughly  made  his  way  with  his  elbows, 
getting  a  few  blows  in  return,  about  which  he  did  not  trouble 
himself.  Having  reached  an  open  space,  he  looked  round 
with  a  hasty,  anxious  eye;  then  leaving  by  the  door  on  the 
side  to  the  Rue  Garanciere,  almost  opposite  to  that  he  had 
come  in  by,  he  flew  oft*  at  a  great  pace,  and  vanished  down 
one  of  the  deserted  streets  that  lie  about  the  Marche  Saint- 
Germain. 

A  few  seconds  after  the  irruption  of  this  strange  wor- 
shiper, in  at  the  same  door  came  a  man  with  a  deeply-seamed 
face  framed  in  white  whiskers;  thick  hair,  also  white,  but 
somewhat  rusty,  and  falling  to  his  shoulders,  gave  him  the 
look  of  some  old  member  of  the  Convention,  or  of  Bernardin 
de  Saint-Pierre  after  having  the  smallpox.  The  age  of  his 
face  and  hair  was  well  past  sixty;  but  his  robust  frame,  the 
vigorous  energy  of  his  movements,  and,  above  all,  the  piercing 
sharpness  of  the  look  he  flashed  all  round  the  church  as  he 
came  in,  showed  a  strongly-knit  nature,  on  which  the  advance 
of  years  had  told  but  little. 

He  obviously  was  bent  on  following  the  light-haired  youth, 
but  he  was  not  so  clumsy  as  to  rush  after  him  through  the 
mass  of  people  in  front  of  the  high  altar,  in  which,  as  he 
understood,  the  fugitive  had  tried  to  be  lost.  So,  working 
round  the  building  close  to  the  wall,  in  a  contrary  direction, 
he  had  every  chance  of  reaching  the  other  door  as  soon  as  his 
prey;  but,  as  has  happened  to  many  another,  his  cleverness 
played  him  a  trick.  As  he  passed  a  confessional,  he  per- 
ceived a  kneeling  form  very  like  that  of  the  man  he  was 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  393 

chasing.  Attributing  to  him  an  ingenuity  that  would,  no 
doubt,  have  been  his  in  similar  circumstances,  it  struck  him 
that,  to  put  him  off  the  scent,  his  escaped  victim  had  suddenly 
thrown  himself  on  the  penitential  tribunal.  In  the  time  it 
took  him  to  make  sure  of  the  man's  identity,  which  as  we 
know  was  not  confirmed,  he  was  outstripped.  So  practised 
a  hunter  at  once  gave  up  the  useless  chase;  he  understood 
that  the  game  was  up  for  to-day,  and  he  had  missed  his 
chance. 

He  too  was  about  to  leave  the  church,  when,  after  a  brief 
prelude  on  the  organ,  Signora  Luigia's  contralto  voice  in  a 
few  deep  notes  began  the  glorious  melody  to  which  the 
Litanies  to  the  Virgin  are  sung.  The  beauty  of  her  voice, 
the  beauty  of  the  strain,  the  beauty  of  the  words  of  that 
sacred  hymn,  which  her  admirable  style  gave  out  with  perfect 
distinctness,  seemed  to  impress  this  strange  man  deepl}'.  Far 
from  leaving,  as  he  had  intended,  he  took  his  stand  in  the 
shadow  of  a  pillar,  not  looking  for  a  seat ;  but  at  the  moment 
when  the  last  notes  of  the  canticle  died  away,  he  had  fallen 
on  his  knees,  and  any  one  looking  at  his  face  would  have 
seen  that  two  large  tears  were  trickling  down  his  cheeks. 

The  Benedicite  having  been  pronounced,  and  the  greater 
part  of  the  crowd  having  left  the  church: 

"What  a  fool  I  am !"  said  he,  as  he  rose  and  wiped  his 
eyes. 

He  went  out  by  the  same  door  as  he  had  come  in  by,  turn- 
ing up  the  Rue  Servandoni,  paused  for  a  moment  in  front 
of  a  closed  shop,  went  on  to  the  Place  Saint-Sulpice,  and 
getting  into  one  of  the  hackney  cabs  that  stood  there,  he  said 
to  the  driver  : 

"Hue  de  Provence,  and  look  sharp,  my  good  fellow.  It 
will  be  worth  your  while." 

On  reaching  the  house  where  he  stopped  the  coach,  he  ran 
past  the  gatekeeper's  lodge  and  made  for  the  backstairs,  not 
wishing  to  be  seen;  but  the  porter,  who  was  conscientious 
in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  came  to  his  door  and  called 
after  him: 


394  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Pray,  where  are  you  going,  sir  ?" 

"To  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,"  replied  the  visitor  in  a 
tone  of  annoyance. 

Immediately  after  he  rang  at  a  back  door,  which  was 
opened  by  a  negro. 

"Is  my  aunt  in?"  he  asked. 

"Oh  yes,  Missy  at  home,"  replied  the  black  man,  putting 
on  the  most  gracious  smile  he  could  command,  which  made 
him  look  like  an  ape  cracking  nuts. 

Making  his  way  along  the  passages,  which  gave  an  idea 
of  the  extent  of  the  apartments,  the  newcomer  reached  the 
drawing-room  door;  the  negro  threw  it  open,  announcing 
"Monsieur  Saint-Hesteve,"  with  a  violent  aspirate. 

The  head  of  the  detective  police  went  into  a  room  remark- 
able for  it  magnificence,  but  yet  more  so  for  the  extra- 
ordinary bad  taste  of  the  furniture.  Three  women  of  venerable 
antiquity  were  sitting  at  a  round  table,  solemnly  playing 
dominoes.  Three  glasses,  a  silver  bowl  drained  empty,  and  a 
vinous  perfume  that  was  unpleasantly  conspicuous  on  coming 
into  the  room,  showed  that  the  worship  of  the  double-sixes 
was  not  the  only  cultus  solemnized  there. 

"Good-evening,  ladies,"  said  the  great  man,  taking  a  chair, 
"I  am  glad  to  find  you  all  together,  for  I  have  something  to 
say  to  each  of  you." 

"We  will  listen  presently,"  said  his  aunt;  "let  us  finish 
the  game.  I  am  playing  for  fours.'' 

"Double-blank,"  said  one  of  the  antiquities. 

"Domino!"  cried  Madame  de  .Saint-Esteve,  "and  game. 
You  two  must  certainly  have  four  points  between  you,  and 
all  the  blanks  are  out." 

So  speaking,  she  put  out  a  bony  hand  to  take  the  punch- 
ladle  and  fill  the  glasses;  but  finding  the  bowl  empty,  instead 
of  rising  to  pull  the  bell,  she  rang  a  peal  with  the  spoon  in  the 
silver  bason.  The  negro  came  in. 

"Have  something  put  into  that,"  said  she,  handing  it  to 
him ;  "and  bring  a  glass  for  monsieur.'" 

"Thanks ;  I  will  take  nothing,"  said  Saint-Esteve. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  395 

"I  have  had  a  sufficiency,"  said  one  of  the  old  ladies. 

"And  I  have  been  put  upon  milk,"  said  the  other,  "by  the 
doctor,  on  account  of  my  gastripes." 

"You  are  all  milksops  together,"  said  the  mistress  of  the 
house. — "Here,  clear  all  this  away,"  said  she  to  the  negro; 
"and,  above  all,  don't  let  me  catch  you  listening  at  the  door ! 
You  remember  the  clawing  you  got?" 

"Oh  yes — I  'member,"  said  the  man,  his  shoulders  shak- 
ing with  laughter — "me  got  no  ears  now." 

And  he  went  away. 

"Well,  Tommy,  it  is  your  turn  now,"  said  the  old  aunt 
to  Saint-Esteve,  after  a  stormy  settlement  of  accounts  be- 
tween the  three  witches. 

"You,  Madame  Fontaine,"  said  the  head  detective,  turn- 
ing to  one  of  them,  who  by  her  fly-away  looks,  her  disorderl\r 
gray  hair  and  her  frightfully  crooked  green  silk  bonnet,  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  blue-stocking  in  labor  with  an  article 
on  the  fashions,  "you  forget  yourself  too  much ;  you  never 
send  us  in  any  report,  while,  on  the  contrary,  we  hear  too 
many  reports  about  you.  Monsieur  le  Prefet  does  not' at  all 
care  for  establishments  of  your  class.  I  only  keep  you  going 
for  the  sake  of  the  services  you  are  supposed  to  do  us;  but 
without  pretending,  as  you  do,  to  look  into  the  future,  I  can 
positively  predict  that  if  you  continue  to  afford  us  so  little 
information,  vour  fortune-telling  shop  will  be  shut  before 
long." 

"There  you  go !"  retorted  the  pythoness.  "You  prevented 
my  taking  the  rooms  Mademoiselle  Lenormand  had  in  the 
Rue  de  Tournon.  Who  do  you  suppose  will  come  to  me  in 
the  Rue  Vieille-du-Temple  ?  Poor  clerks,  cooks,  laborers,  and 
apprentice  girls !  And  you  want  me  to  go  tattling  to  you  of 
what  I  pick  up  from  such  folks?  You  should  have  let  me 
work  on  a  large  scale,  and  you  would  have  got  more  informa- 
tion." 

"Madame  Fontaine,  you  didn't  ought  to  say  that,"  said  Ma- 
dame de  Saint-Esteve ;  "why,  I  send  some  of  my  customers  to 
you  most  days." 


396  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Not  more  than  I  send  you  mine !'' 

"And  not  above  four  days  since,"  the  matrimonial  agent 
went  on,  "that  Italian  woman  went  to  you  from  me.  She 
is  not  a  milliner's  apprentice,  she  is  not ;  and  she  lives  with  a 
deputy  who  is  against  the  Government !  You  might  have  re- 
ported that.  But  you  do  not  care  to  use  your  pen;  and 
since  you  quarreled  with  your  little  counter- jumper  for  hav- 
ing too  many  waistcoats  from  the  tailor,  no  more  writing  for 
you !" 

"There  is  one  thing  in  particular,"  said  the  detective, 
"which  is  constantly  mentioned  in  the  reports  that  reach 
me  about  you — that  foul  creature  you  make  use  of  in  your 
divinations 

"Who?     Ashtaroth?"  asked  Madame  Fontaine. 

"Yes;  that  batrachian,  that  toad,  to  speak  plainly,  whom 
you  pretend  to  consult.  A  little  while  since  it  would  seem 
a  woman  was  so  upset  by  his  horrible  appearance  that 
she " 

"There,  there,"  the  fortune-teller  broke  in,  "if  I  am  to 
do  nothing  now  but  read  the  cards,  you  may  as  well  ruin 
me  at  once — cut  my  throat  and  have  done-  with  it !  Because 
a  woman  has  a  still-born  child,  are  you  going  to  get  rid  of 
toads  altogether  in  this  world?  If  so,  what  did  God  create 
them  for?" 

"My  dear  madame,"  said  the  man,  "there  was  a  time  when 
you  would  have  been  less  partial  to  such  help.  In  1617  a 
philosopher  named  Vanini  was  burned  at  Toulouse  solely  be- 
cause he  kept  a  toad  in  a  bottle." 

"Ay,  but  we  live  in  an  age  of  enlightenment/'  said  Ma- 
dame Fontaine  cheerfully,  "and  the  police  are  not  so  hard 
upon  us." 

"You,  Madame  Nourrisson,"  said  the  detective,  turning 
to  the  other  old  woman,  "pick  the  fruit  too  green,  I  am 
told.  Having  kept  shop  so  long  as  you  have,  you  must  be 
well  aware  of  the  laws  and  regulations,  and  I  am  surprised 
at  having  to  remind  you  that  morals  must  be  respected — un- 
der one-and-twenty." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  397 

Madame  Nourrisson  had,  in  fact,  been,  under  the  Empire, 
what  Parent  du  Chatelet  (whose  work  is  such  a  curious  study 
of  the  great  plague  of  prostitution)  euphemistically  called  a 
Dame  de  Maison.  She  had  afterwards  set  up  in  the  Rue 
Neuve-'Saint-Marc  the  shop  for  buying  and  selling  old  clothes, 
where  the  business  of  Esther  had  been  managed,  to  which 
Maxime  de  Trailles  had  referred  as  having  cost  Nucingen  the 
banker  more  than  five  hundred  thousand  francs.  But  on  that 
occasion  Madame  Nourrisson  had  screened  herself  behind 
Madame  Saint-Estcve;  and  she,  advised  by  Vautrin  in  con- 
ducting the  affair,  had  for  the  time  used  the  old  clothes- 
dealer's  shop  as  the  headquarters  of  her  operations.  Between 
persons  who  have  memories  of  such  complicity,  extreme  fa- 
miliarity is  a  foregone  conclusion ;  so  it  is  not  surprising  that 
Madame  Nourrisson  should  retort  on  Saint-Esteve  for  the 
lecture  he  had  given  her: 

"And  you,  you  great  bully,  you  respected  morality,  I  sup- 
posed when,  in  1809,  you  placed  that  girl  of  seventeen  from 
Champagne  in  my  care !" 

"If  it  is  thirty  years  since  that  folly  was  committed  in  my 
name,"  replied  the  man,  "that  is  thirty  years'  record  in  my 
favor;  for  it  was  the  last  into  which  I  was  ever  drawn  by  a 
petticoat.  However,  dear  ladies,  you  can  make  such  use  as 
you  please  of  my  warnings.  If  mischief  overtakes  you,  you 
cannot  now  complain  that  you  had  not  due  notice. 

"As  to  you,  my  little  aunt,  what  I  have  to  say  to  you  is 
private  and  confidential." 

At  this  hint  the  other  two  prepared  to  leave. 

"Shall  I  send  for  a  cab  for  you  ?"  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve 
asked  Madame  Fontaine. 

"No,  indeed,"  said  the  fortune-teller.  "I  am  going  to 
walk;  I  am  told  to  take  exercise.  I  told  my  forewoman, 
Ma'am  Jamouillot,  to  come  for  me." 

"And  you,  Madame  Nourrisson?" 

"That's  a  good  'un !"  said  the  woman.  "A  cab  to  go  from 
the  Rue  de  Provence  to  the  Rue  Neuve-Saint-Marc !  Why, 
we  are  quite  near  neighbors." 


398  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

In  point  of  fact,  the  old-clothes  woman  had  come  in  every- 
day attire:  a  white  cap  with  yellow  ribbons,  a  patent  front 
of  jet  black  curls,  a  black  silk  apron,  and  a  cotton  print  gown 
with  a  dark  blue  ground ;  and,  as  she  said  facetiously,  it  was 
most  unlikely  that  any  one  should  want  to  run  away  with  her. 

Before  reporting  the  interview  now  about  to  take  place 
between  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve  and  his  aunt,  some  expla- 
nations must  find  a  place  here. 

In  this  public  protector,  who  on  the  evening  of  the  out- 
break on  the  12th  of  May  had  offered  his  services  to  Rastignac, 
every  reader  will  have  recognized  the  notorious  Jacques  Col- 
lin,  alias  Vautrin,  one  of  the  most  familiar  and  elaborately 
drawn  figures  of  the  HUMAX  COMEDY. 

A  little  while  before  the  revolution  of  1830,  this  hero  of 
the  hulks,  very  hard  hit  by  the  death  of  a  friend,  lost  heart 
to  carry  on  the  struggle  he  had  maintained  for  five-and- 
twenty  years  against  society,  and  had  given  in  his  resignation, 
so  to  speak,  to  Monsieur  de  Granville,  the  Attorney-General, 
under  somewhat  dramatic  circumstances.  Since  that  time  he 
had  succeeded  the  famous  Bibi-Lupin  as  head  of  the  detective 
police  force,  under  the  name  of  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve ;  he 
was  now  the  terror  of  those  who  had  formerly  been  his  ac- 
complices; and  by  the  unrelenting  persecution  by  which  he 
harried  them,  he  had  acquired  a  reputation  for  skill  and 
energy  which  remains  unmatched  in  the  annals  of  the  crim- 
inal police. 

But,  as  he  had  told  his  old  friend  Colonel  Franchessini,  he 
was  tired  of  this  perpetual  thief-hunting ;  there  was  no  longer 
any  hazard  or  anything  unforeseen  in  the  game;  and,  like  a 
too  experienced  gambler,  he  had  ceased  to  take  an  interest 
in  it.  For  some  years  there  had  been  still  some  spice  in  the 
business,  and  that  had  given  him  endurance  from  the  endless 
attacks  and  ambushes  planned  against  him  by  his  old  chums 
on  the  hulks,  who  were  furious  at  what  they  called  his  treason ; 
but  by  this  time  his  cleverness  and  his  good  luck,  which  had 
always  protected  him  from  their  conspiracies,  had  discouraged 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  399 

his  foes,  and  they  had  laid  down  their  arms.  Since  then  his 
duties  had  lost  all  their  charm ;  he  was  anxious  to  change  his 
sphere  of  employment  and  transfer  his  marvelous  instincts  as 
a  spy  and  his  indefatigable  energy  to  that  of  politics. 

Colonel  Franchessini  had  taken  care  to  see  him  again  after 
his  visit  to  Kastignac;  and  his  old  fellow-boarder  at  Madame 
Vauquier's  was  not  the  man  to  underestimate  the  purport  of 
the  Minister's  views  as  to  the  luxury  of  such  a  plain  citizen 
iife  as  he  had  suggested  to  cast  oblivion  on  the  odious  past 
that  weighed  on  him. 

"Haha !"  said  he,  "the  pupil  then  has  outstripped  his 
master!  His  advice  deserves  consideration;  I  will  think 
about  it." 

In  fact,  he  had  thought  about  it,  and  it  was  under  the 
influence  of  much  meditation  and  careful  examination  of  the 
scheme  proposed  to  him  that  he  had  now  come  to  see  his  aunt 
Jacqueline  Collin — otherwise  known  as  Madame  de  Saint- 
Esteve — an  alias  they  had  agreed  to  adopt,  which,  while 
masking  the  past  history  of  this  formidable  pair,  marked  their 
close  relationship. 

Jacqueline  Collin  herself,  besides  taking  an  active  part  in 
many  of  her  nephew's  enterprises,  had  led  an  adventurous 
life;  and  on  one  of  the  many  occasions  when  Vautrin  found 
himself  at  variance  with  the  law,  an  examining  judge  had 
thus  summed  up  the  antecedent  history  of  this  much-re- 
spected aunt,  from  certain  data  furnished  by  the  police,  of 
which  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  the  accuracy: — 

"She  is,  it  would  seem,  an  extremely  cunning  receiver  of 
stolen  goods — for  no  proof  can  be  brought  against  her.  She 
is  said  to  have  been  Murat's  mistress,  and  after  his  death  she 
lived  with  a  chemist,  executed  in  the  year  VIII.  (1799)  as 
a  false  coiner.  She  was  witness  at  the  trial.  While  with  him 
she  acquired  much  dangerous  knowledge  of  poisons.  From 
the  year  IX.  till  1805,  she  dealt  in  old  clothes.  She  was  in 
prison  for  two  years,  1807-8,  for  entrapping  girls  under  age. 

"You,  Jacques  Collin,  were  at  that  time  on  your  trial  for 
forgery;  you  had  left  the  banking  house  where  your  aunt  had 


400  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

apprenticed  you  as  clerk  under  favor  of  the  education  you  had 
received  and  the  influence  she  could  wield  over  persons  for 
whose  depravity  she  had  entrapped  victims." 

Since  the  time  when  this  edifying  biography  had  been 
placed  in  her  nephew's  hands,  Jacqueline  Collin,  without 
falling  again  into  the  clutches  of  the  public  prosecutor,  had 
enlarged  her  borders ;  and  when  Vautriii  renounced  the  ways 
of  wickedness,  she  was  far  from  assuming  an  equally  im- 
maculate garb  of  innocence.  But  having — as  he  had — made  a 
great  deal  of  money,  she  would  now  pick  and  choose ;  she  had 
kept  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  arm  of  the  law;  and  under 
the  pretence  of  a  more  or  less  decent  line  of  business,  she  had 
carried  on  certain  underground  practices,  to  which  she  devoted 
really  diabolical  intelligence  and  energy. 

We  have  already  learned  from  Desroches  that  the  more  or 
less  matrimonial  agency  managed  by  Madame  de  Saint-Es- 
teve  was  situated  in  the  Kue  de  Provence;  and  we  may  add 
that  it  was  carried  on  on  an  extensive  scale,  occupying  all  the 
first  floor  of  one  of  the  enormous  houses  which  Paris  builders 
raise  from  the  earth  as  if  by  magic.  They  are  scarcely  fin- 
ished, and  never  free  from  debt,  when  they  are  filled  with 
tenants,  at  any  price,  while  waiting  for  a  buyer  to  whom  they 
are  sold  out  of  hand.  If  the  builder  finds  a  fool  to  deal  with, 
he  does  a  fine  stroke  of  business;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
purchaser  is  a  tough  customer,  the  builder  has  to  be  content 
with  recovering  his  outlay,  with  a  few  thousand  francs  as  in- 
terest ;  unless,  while  the  work  is  going  on,  the  speculation  has 
been  hampered  by  one  of  those  bankruptcies  which  in  the 
building  trade  are  among  the  commonest  and  most  familiar 
complications. 

Women  of  the  town,  business  agents,  still-born  insurance 
companies,  newspapers  fated  to  die  young,  the  offices  of  im- 
possible railway  companies,  discount  brokers  who  borrow 
instead  of  lending,  advertisement  agents,  who  lack  the  pub- 
licity they  profess  to  sell ;  in  short,  all  descriptions  of  shy  or 
doubtful  enterprise  and  trade  combine  to  provide  the  tem- 
porary inhabitants  of  these  republics. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  401 

They  are  built  merely  for  show,  run  up  with  perfect  in- 
difference to  the  fact  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  months 
settlement  will  hinder  the  windows  from  opening,  warping 
will  split  the  doors,  the  seams  of  the  flooring  will  yawn,  the 
drains,  gutter-pipes,  and  sinks  will  leak,  and  the  whole  card- 
board structure  be  uninhabitable.  That  is  the  purchaser's 
business;  and  he,  after  patching  the  house  up,  is  at  liberty 
to  be  more  fastidious  in  the  choice  of  his  tenants,  and  to  raise 
the  rents. 

Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  having  taken  possession  of  her 
first  floor  before  the  stage  of  early  decay  had  set  in,  had  se- 
cured a  very  comfortable  tenement  at  a  low  rent ;  and  the  best 
success,  to  say  nothing  of  her  profits  from  other  unconfessed 
sources,  crowned  the  efforts  of  her  skilful  management.  It 
need  hardly  be  said  that  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,  regarding 
the  display  of  advertisement  as  beneath  her  notice,  left  it 
to  her  rivals,  and  never  flaunted  her  office  on  the  fourth  page 
of  a  newspaper.  This  haughtiness,  which,  in  view  of  the  dark 
passages  of  her  early  life,  was  but  prudent,  had  led  to  her 
discovering  some  other  ingenious  and  less  vulgar  methods 
for  attracting  attention  to  her  agency.  In  the  country,  and 
even  abroad,  she  would  employ  certain  clever  commercial 
travelers,  who  cautiously  distributed  a  circular  drawn  up  by 
Gaudissart,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  puff-writers  of  mod- 
ern times. 

The  ostensible  object  of  this  document  was  to  offer  the  as- 
sistance of  a  strictly  commercial  agency  through  which,  on  the 
most  moderate  terms,  wedding  outfits  and  presents  could  be 
procured  from  Paris,  suitable  to  every  fortune  or  sum  in  set- 
tlement. It  was  only  as  a  modest  N.B.,  after  an  estimate  of 
cost  of  the  objects  commonly  included  in  such  lists,  divided, 
somewhat  like  an  undertaker's  prospectus,  into  first,  second, 
third,  and  fourth  classes,  that  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve 
hinted  at  her  "being  enabled,  through  her  high  social  con- 
nections, to  facilitate  introductions  between  persons  wishing 
to  marry." 

In  Paris  the  lady  herself  appealed  to  public  credulity,  and 


402  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

her  means  were  as  ingenious  as  they  were  various.  She  made 
a  bargain  with  a  job-master,  who  sent  two  or  three  decent- 
looking  carriages  to  stand  for  hours  at  her  door.  Then,  in  her 
waiting-room,  supposed  clients  of  both  sexes,  well  dressed, 
and  affecting  great  impatience,  took  it  in  turns  to  come  in 
and  out,  so  as  to  suggest  a  constant  crowd;  and,  as  may  be 
supposed,  the  conversation  of  these  confederates — who  pre- 
tended not  to  know  each  other — expatiated  in  suitable  terms 
on  the  merits  and  superior  adroitness  of  Madame  de  Saint- 
Esteve. 

The  ingenious  adventuress,  by  some  donations  to  the  poor, 
and  to  the  charities  of  Notre-Dame  de  Lorette,  her  parish, 
got  an  occasional  call  from  a  priest,  which  was  at  once  a 
voucher  of  respectability  and  of  the  genuineness  of  her  mat- 
rimonial undertakings.  Another  of  her  ingenious  tricks  was 
to  keep  herself  supplied  by  the  market-woman  with  lists  of  all 
the  fashionable  weddings  in  Paris,  and  to  be  seen  in  the 
church  very  handsomely  dressed,  arriving  in  a  carriage  with 
men-servants,  so  as  to  allow  it  to  be  inferred  that  she  had  had 
something  to  do  with  bringing  about  the  union  she  had  hon- 
ored with  her  presence. 

On  one  occasion,  however,  a  not  very  tolerant  family  ob- 
jected to  the  idea  of  serving  her  purpose  of  advertisement, 
and  had  treated  her  with  contumely ;  so  she  was  now  cautious 
as  to  how  she  tried  this  plan  for  which  she  had  substituted 
a  system  of  rumor  less  compulsory  and  far  less  dangerous. 
Having  known  Madame  Fontaine  for  many  years — for  there 
is  a  natural  affinity  among  all  these  underground  traffickers — 
she  had  plotted  with  her  for  a  sort  of  reciprocal  insurance 
company  for  working  on  the  credulity  of  the  Parisians;  and 
between  these  two  hags  the  terms  were  thus  arranged :  when  a 
woman  goes  to  have  her  fortune  told,  at  least  eight  times  out 
of  ten  her  curiosity  turns  on  the  question  of  marriage.  So 
when  the  sorceress  announced  to  one  of  her  fair  clients  in 
time-honored  phraseology,  that  she  would  ere  long  meet  her 
fate  in  the  person  of  a  light-haired  or  a  dark-haired  man,  she 
took  care  to  add :  "But  the  union  can  only  be  brought  about 


403 

through  the  agency  of  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,  a  very  rich 
and  highly  respectable  woman,  living  in  the  Rue  de  Provence 
Chaussee-d'Antin,  who  has  a  passion  for  match-making.'' 
While  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  on  her  part,  when  she  pro- 
posed a  match,  if  she  thought  there  was  any  chance  of  thus 
promoting  its  success,  would  say:  "But  go  at  any  rate  and 
consult  the  famous  Madame  Fontaine  as  to  the  outcome  of 
the  negotiation — Eue  Vieille-du-Temple — her  reputation  as 
a  fortune-teller  by  the  cards  is  European;  she  never  makes 
a  mistake;  and  if  she  tells  you  that  I  have  made  a  good  hit, 
you  may  conclude  the  bargain  in  perfect  confidence." 

It  may  easily  be  understood  that  the  Numa  of  the  Rue 
Sainte-Anne  should  have  taken  so  resourceful  a  woman  for 
his  Egeria. 

Rastignac's  informant  had  not  been  quite  correct  in  saying 
that  the  aunt  and  nephew  lived  together ;  but  it  was  perfectly 
true  that  Vautrin,  when  business  allowed  of  it,  never  passed  a 
day  without  coming,  as  mysteriously  as  possible,  to  visit  his 
respectable  relation.  For  many  years,  if  any  serious  incident 
occurred  in  his  life,  Jacqueline  Collin  had  a  finger  in  it  as 
his  adviser,  and  often  as  his  active  assistant. 

"My  dear  granny  I"  said  Vautrin,  to  begin  the  conversation 
for  which  he  had  come,  "I  have  so  many  things  to  tell  you 
that  I  do  not  know  where  to  begin." 

"I  believe  you — why,  I  have  not  seen  you  for  nearly  a  week." 

"To  begin  with,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  I  just  missed 
a  splendid  stroke  of  business." 

"What  sort?"  asked  Jacqueline  Collin. 

"Oh,  all  in  the  way  of  my  vile  trade.  But  this  time  the 
game  was  worth  the  trouble. — Do  you  remember  that  little 
Prussian  engraver  about  whom  I  sent  you  to  Berlin  ?" 

"Who  forged  the  Vienna  banknotes  in  such  an  astounding 
manner?"  said  the  aunt,  finishing  the  story. 

"Well,  not  an  hour  ago  in  the  Rue  Servandoni,  where  I 
had  been  to  see  one  of  my  men  who  is  on  the  sick  list,  passing 
by  a  greengrocer's  shop,  I  fancied  I  recognized  my  man  buy- 
ing a  slice  of  Brie  cheese  which  was  being  wrapped  in  paper." 


404  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"It  would  seem  that  he  is  not  much  the  richer  then,  for  all 
he  knows  so  much  about  banknotes " 

"My  first  thought,"  Vautrin  went  on,  "was  to  rush  into  the 
shop — the  door  was  shut — and  to  collar  my  rogue;  but,  not 
having  seen  his  face  very  close,  I  was  afraid  of  being  mistaken. 
He,  it  would  seem,  had  kept  a  lookout;  he  saw  some  one 
spying  him  through  the  window,  and  presto  !  he  vanished  into 
the  back-shop,  and  I  saw  him  no  more " 

"Then,  old  boy,  that  is  what  comes  of  wearing  long  hair  and 
a  beard  all  round  your  chin.  The  game  scents  you  a  hundred 
yards  away !" 

"But  then,  as  you  know,  my  fancy  for  being  easily  recog- 
nized is  what  most  impresses  my  customers.  'He  must  be 
jolly  well  sure  of  himself/  they  say,  'never  to  want  any  dis- 
guise !' — Nothing  has  done  so  much  to  make  me  popular." 

"Well,"  said  Jacqueline,  "so  your  man  was  in  the  back- 
shop." 

"I  hastily  took  stock  of  the  premises,"  Vautrin  went  on. 
"The  shop  was  on  one  side  of  an  arched  entry ;  at  the  bottom 
of  the  entry  the  door  was  open  to  a  courtyard,  into  which  there 
would  be  a  door  from  the  back-shop ;  consequently,  unless  the 
fellow  lived  in  the  house,  I  was  in  command  of  all  the  exits. 
I  waited  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour;  it  is  a  long  time  when 
you  are  waiting.  I  looked  into  the  shop  in  vain,  no  sign  of 
him.  Three  customers  went  in;  the  woman  served  them 
without  seeming  to  be  aware  of  any  one  keeping  an  eye  on  her, 
she  never  gave  a  glance  one  way  or  the  other,  or  seemed  at  all 
on  the  watch.  'Well !'  said  I  to  myself  at  last,  'he  must  be  a 
lodger;  if  not,  the  woman  would  certainly  have  been  more 
puzzled  at  his  going  out  the  back  way.'  So  I  determined  to 
drop  in  and  ask  a  question  or  two.  Pff!  I  had  scarcely 
crossed  the  threshold  when  I  heard  steps  in  the  street — the 
bird  had  flown." 

"You  were  in  too  great  a  hurry,  my  dear.  And  yet,  only  the 
other  day  you  said  to  me — 'Police  spells  patience.'  " 

"Without  waiting  for  further  information,"  said  Vautrin, 
"I  was  off  in  pursuit.  Exactly  facing  the  Eue  Servandoni — 


THE    MEMBER   FOR    ARCIS  405 

the  name  of  the  architect  who  built  Saint  Sulpice — there  is 
a  door  into  the  church,  which  was  open  because  of  the  month 
of  Mary,  service  being  held  there  every  afternoon.  My  rascal 
having  the  advantage  of  me,  flew  through  this  door,  and  was 
so  effectually  lost  in  the  crowd,  that  when  I  went  in  I  could 
nowhere  find  him." 

"Well,"  said  the  woman,  "I  cannot  be  sorry  that  the  rascal 
stole  a  march  on  you.  I  always  feel  some  interest  in  a 
smasher.  Coining  is  a  neat  sort  of  crime,  and  clean;  no 
blood  spilt,  no  harm  done  but  to  that  mean  hunks  the  Gov- 
ernment." 

"And  the  Frankfort  house  that  was  ruined  by  his  for- 
geries." 

"You  may  say  what  you  like;  it  is  better  form  than  your 
Lucien  de  Eubempre,  who  ate  us  out  of  house  and  home. 
Now,  if  you  had  but  had  a  lad  like  this  under  your  thumb 
in  our  best  days ! " 

"In  spite  of  your  admiration,  you  will  have  to  go  to-mor- 
row and  pick  up  some  information  from  the  greengrocer 
woman,  who  must  certainly  know  him,  since  she  winked  at 
his  escape.  When  I  went  back  to  the  shop  I  found  shutters 
and  doors  all  shut  up.  I  had  lost  some  time  in  the 
church " 

"Listening  to  a  singer,  I  bet,"  interrupted  the  aunt. 

"Quite  true.    How  did  you  know  ?" 

"Why,  all  Paris  is  crowding  to  hear  her,"  replied  Jacqueline 
Collin,  "and  I  know  her  too,  in  my  own  little  way." 

"What !  That  voice  that  touched  me  so  deeply,  that  took 
me  back  fifty  years  to  my  first  communion  under  the  good 
Oratorian  fathers,  who  brought  me  up — that  woman  who 
made  me  cry,  and  transformed  me  for  five  minutes  into  a 
saint — and  you  have  her  on  your  books ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  carelessly,  "I  have  a 
transaction  on  hand  for  her:  I  am  getting  her  on  to  the  stage." 

"Aha !  So  you  are  a  dramatic  agent  too  ?  Matrimony  is 
not  enough  ?" 

"This  is  the  case  in  two  words,  my  boy.     She  is  an  Italian, 


406  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

as  handsome  as  can  be,  come  from  Rome  with  an  idiot  of  a 
sculptor,  whom  she  worships  without  his  suspecting  it.  In- 
deed, this  Joseph  cares  so  little  about  her,  that  after  using  her 
as  his  model  for  a  statue,  he  has  never  yet  been  at  the  pains 
to  be  more  than  civil." 

"That  is  a  man  who  ought  to 'do  well  in  his  art,"  remarked 
Jacques  Collin,  "with  such  a  contempt  for  women  and  so 
much  strength  of  mind." 

"And  the  proof  of  that,"  replied  Jacqueline,  "is  that  he  has 
just  given  his  art  up  to  become  a  member  of  the  Chamber. 
It  was  about  him  that  I  said  to  old  Fontaine  that  she  might 
have  found  something  to  write  to  you.  I  sent  my  Italian  to 
her,  and  she  told  the  cards  as  regards  this  ice-bound  lover.'' 

"And  how  did  you  come  to  know  the  woman  ?" 

"Through  old  Eonquerolles.  Having  gone  to  see  the 
sculptor  one  day,  in  the  matter  of  a  duel  in  which  he  was 
second,  he  saw  this  jewel  of  a  woman,  and  became  quite  N"u- 
cingen  about  her." 

"And  you  undertook  the  negotiations  ?" 

"As  you  say.  It  was  above  a  month  ago,  and  the  poor  man 
had  had  all  his  pains  for  nothing.  Now  I,  having  the  matter 
in  hand,  made  inquiries;  I  found  out  that  the  beauty  was  a 
member  of  the  Sisters  of  the  Virgin;  thereupon  I  called  on 
her  as  a  Dame  de  Charite,  and  imagine  what  luck  for  me  as 
a  beginning — the  sculptor  was  in  the  country  getting  himself 
elected " 

"I  have  no  fears  about  you;  at  the  same  time,  a  lady  of 
charity  who  undertakes  a  theatrical  agency !" 

"By  the  time  I  had  seen  her  twice  she  had  told  me  all  her 
little  secrets,"  the  old  woman  went  on.  "That  she  could  no 
longer  bear  life  with  that  man  of  marble ;  that  she  was  deter- 
mined to  owe  nothing  to  him ;  and  that  having  studied  for  the 
stage,  if  she  could  only  secure  an  engagement,  she  would  run 
away.  So  one  day  I  went  off  to  her  and  arrived  quite  out  of 
breath  to  tell  her  that  a  friend  of  mine — a  great  lord,  highly 
respectable,  old,  virtuous — to  whom  I  had  spoken  of  her, 
would  undertake  to  get  her  an  opening,  and  I  asked  her  to  let 
me  take  him  to  see  her." 


THE    MEMBER    FOE    ARCI8  40? 

"A  word  and  a  blow !"  said  Jacques  Collin. 

"Yes ;  but  she,  a  devil  for  suspiciousness,  and  less  bent  on 
deserting  her  sculptor  than  she  had  thought,  kept  me,  shilly- 
shally, from  day  to  day.  So  at  last,  to  give  her  a  shove,  I 
hinted  that  she  should  go  to  consult  old  Fontaine,  as  indeed 
she  was  ready  enough  to  do.  But  even  now,  in  spite  of  the 
cards,  she  is  still  very  wide  awake,  and  the  job  is  spoiling,  I 
fear,  for  she  has  seen  her  man  again;  he  has  come  back 
elected. 

"It  is  of  no  use  to  talk;  I  must  proceed  with  caution.  If 
he  should  make  difficulties  about  our  enticing  away  the  wo- 
man, whom  he  would  perhaps  think  he  wanted  as  soon  as  she 
ceased  to  want  him,  he  would  hold  a  very  strong  hand.  And 
that  selfish  old  brute  Ronquerolles,  who  is  only  a  member  of 
the  Upper  House,  would  not  be  much  protection  against  a 
deputy  of  the  Chamber " 

"That  old  rip  Bonquerolles  is  not  the  man  for  that  woman," 
said  Jacques  Collin.  "If  she  is  an  honest  woman,  we  must- 
keep  her  so.  I  know  a  really  respectable  man  who  will  get  her 
on  to  the  stage  on  honorable  terms,  and  secure  her  a  splendid 
position  without  asking  for  anything  in  return." 

"What !  you  know  of  any  such  phenomenon  ?  I  should  be 
truly  glad  to  have  his  address ;  I  would  leave  a  card  on  him." 

"All  right — Petite  Rue  Sainte-Anne,  Quai  des  Orfevres; 
you  will  find  a  man  there  of  your  acquaintance." 

"Are  you  guying  me  ?"  cried  the  woman,  who  in  her  aston- 
ishment fell  back  on  the  low  slang  which  she  had  spoken  so 
fluently  of  yore. 

"No,  I  am  quite  serious.  That  woman  touched  me;  she 
interests  me ;  and  I  have  another  reason " 

Vautrin  then  related  his  proceedings  with  regard  to  Ras- 
tignac,  Colonel  Franchessini's  intervention,  the  Minister's  re- 
ply, and  his  transcendental  theories  of  social  reorganization. 

"And  that  little  ape  thinks  he  can  teach  us !"  exclaimed  the 
aunt. 

"He  is  in  the  right,"  said  Vautrin,  "only  the  woman  was 
wanting ;  you  have  found  her  for  me." 


408  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Yes,  but  it  will  be  sheer  ruination." 

"And  for  whom  are  we  saving  ?  "We  have  no  heirs,  and  I  do 
not  suppose  you  feel  urgently  drawn  to  found  a  hospital,  or 
prizes  for  distinguished  merit  ?" 

"I  am  not  such  a  softhead,"  replied  the  woman.  "Besides, 
as  you  know,  my  Jacques,  I  have  never  kept  an  account 
against  you.  Still,  I  foresee  one  difficulty:  this  woman  is  as 
proud  as  a  Eoman — which  she  is,  and  your  confounded 
duties " 

"There,  you  see,"  Jacques  Collin  eagerly  put  in,  "I  must 
at  any  price  escape  from  a  life  where  one  is  liable  to  such 
insults.  But  be  easy;  I  can  avert  this  particular  offence. 
My  business  justifies  me  in  playing  every  part  in  turn;  and, 
as  you  will  remember,  I  am  not  a  bad  actor.  I  may  put  a 
whole  rainbow  of  orders  in  my  button-hole  to-morrow  and 
take  a  house  in  any  aristocratic  name  I  may  choose  to  assume. 
The  fun  of  the  carnival  lasts  all  the  year  round  for  a  detective. 

"I  had  already  hit  on  a  plan.  I  know  the  man  I  mean  to 
be.  You  may  tell  your  Italian  that  Count  Halphertius — a 
great  Swedish  lord,  crazy  about  music  and  philanthropy — 
takes  a  great  interest  in  her  advancement.  In  point  of  fact, 
I  will  furnish  a  house  for  her;  I  will  strictly  observe  the 
virtuous  disinterestedness  to  which  you  may  pledge  me;  in 
short,  I  will  be  her  recognized  patron.  As  to  the  engagement 
she  wishes  for,  I  wish  it  too;  for  my  own  future  purpose  I 
want  her  to  be  glorious  and  brilliant ;  and  we  are  not  Jacques 
and  Jacquelin  Collin  if,  with  her  gifts  and  our  gold  and  de- 
termination, we  fail  in  making  her  so." 

"But  then  comes  the  question  whether  Eastignac  will  think 
you  have  won;  it  was  Monsieur  de  Saint-Esteve,  the  head  of 
the  detective  police,  that  he  told  you  to  whitewash." 

"Not  at  all,  old  lady.  There  is  no  such  person  as  Saint- 
Esteve,  no  Jacques  Collin,  no  Vautrin,  no  Trompe-la-Mort, 
no  Carlos  Herrera;  there  is  a  remarkably  powerful  mind, 
strong  and  vigorous,  offering  its  services  to  the  Government. 
I  am  bringing  it  from  the  North,  and  christening  it  with  a 
foreign  name,  and  this  makes  me  all  the  better  fitted  for  the 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  409 

political  and  diplomatic  police  whose  functions  I  henceforth 
intend  to  exercise." 

"You  forge  ahead  !  it  is  wonderful.  But  first  we  must  catch 
the  jewel  who  is  to  make  such  a  show  for  you,  and  we  have  not 
got  her  yet." 

"That  is  no  difficulty;  I  have  seen  you  at  work,  and  when 
you  will  you  can." 

"I  will  try,"  said  Jacqueline  Collin  diffidently.  "Come 
and  see  me  again  to-morrow  night,  at  any  rate ;  perhaps  I  may 
have  something  to  show." 

"And  meanwhile  do  not  forget  the  greengrocer's  shop  in 
the  Hue  Servandoni,  No.  12,  where  you  are  to  make  inquiries. 
That  capture,  as  being  important  to  a  foreign  government, 
has  a  political  air  about  it  that  would  be  of  service  towards 
helping  me  to  my  end." 

"I  will  give  you  a  good  account  of  the  shopwoman,  never 
fear,"  said  Jacqueline.  "But  the  other  affair  is  rather  more 
ticklish ;  we  must  not  handle  it  roughly." 

"You  have  a  free  hand,"  replied  Vautrin.  "I  have  always 
found  you  equal  to  any  undertaking,  however  difficult.  So 
good-bye  till  to-morrow." 

On  the  following  day  Vautrin  was  sitting  in  his  office  in  the 
Petite  Rue  Sainte-Anne  when  he  received  the  following  note : 

"You  are  not  much  to  be  pitied,  old  boy;  everything  is 
working  out  as  you  want  it.  Early  this  morning  I  was  told 
that  a  lady  wished  to  speak  to  me.  Who  should  come  in  but 
our  Italian,  to  whom  I  had  given  my  address  in  case  she 
should  need  me  in  a  hurry.  Her  Joseph  having  spoken  last 
evening,  in  cheerful  terms,  of  his  intention  that  they  should 
part  company,  the  poor  dear  had  not  closed  her  eyes  all  night, 
and  her  little  brain  is  in  such  a  pother  that  she  came  straight 
to  me,  begging  me  to  introduce  her  to  my  respectable  friend, 
in  whose  hands  she  is  prepared  to  place  herself  if  he  is  to  be 
trusted,  because  she  feels  it  a  point  of  honor  to  owe  nothing 
more  to  that  icicle  who  can  disdain  her. — So  come  at  once  in 


410  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

the  new  skin  you  have  chosen,  and  then  it  is  your  business  to 
make  your  way  to  the  charmer's  good  graces. 
"Your  affectionate  aunt, 

"J.  C.  DE  SAINT-ESTATE." 

Vautrin  replied: 

"I  will  be  with  you  this  evening  at  nine.  I  hope  the  change 
in  my  decorative  treatment  will  be  so  handsome  that  if  I  had 
not  told  you  the  name  I  shall  assume,  you  would  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  recognize  me.  I  have  already  taken  steps  in  the  matter 
of  the  engagement,  and  can  speak  of  it  in  such  a  way  that 
the  charmer  will  form  a  good  idea  of  her  Papa's  influence. 

"Sell  some  stock  out  in  the  course  of  the  day  for  a  rather 
considerable  sum ;  we  must  have  ready  money ;  I,  on  my  part, 
will  do  the  same. — Till  this  evening, 
"Your  nephew  and  friend, 

"SAINT-ESTEVE." 

That  evening,  punctual  to  the  hour  he  had  fixed,  Vautrin 
went  to  his  aunt's  rooms.  On  this  occasion  he  went  up  the 
main  staircase,  and  was  announced  as  Monsieur  le  Comte 
Halphertius  by  the  negro,  who  did  not  recognize  him. 

Warned  though  she  was  of  his  metamorphosis,  Jacqueline 
stood  in  amazement  at  this  really  great  actor,  who  was  alto- 
gether another  man.  His  long  hair,  a  la  Franklin,  was  now 
short  and  curled  and  powdered;  his  eyebrows  and  whiskers, 
cutlet-shaped,  in  the  style  of  the  Empire,  were  dyed  dark 
brown,  in  strong  contrast  with  the  powdered  wig ;  and  a  false 
moustache  of  the  same  hue  gave  his  not  naturally  noble  fea- 
tures a  stamp  of  startling  originality,  which  might,  by  a 
stretch  of  imagination,  be  called  distinction.  A  black  satin 
stock  gave  deportment  to  his  head.  He  wore  a  blue  tail-coat, 
buttoned  across,  and  in  one  button-hole  an  inch  of  ribbon 
displayed  the  colors  of  half  the  orders  of  Europe.  A  nankeen 
waistcoat,  visible  below  the  coat-front,  effected  a  harmonious 
transition  to  pearl-gray  trousers;  patent  leather  boots  and 
lemon  kid  gloves  completed  the  "get-up,"  which  aimed  at 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  411 

careless  elegance.  The  powder,  of  which  the  last  wearers 
could  now  easily  be  counted,  gave  the  crowning  touch  to  an  old 
foreign  diplomate,  and  a  very  happy  sobriety  to  a  costume 
which,  but  for  that  corrective,  might  have  appeared  too  juve- 
nile. 

After  giving  a  few  minutes  to  admiration' of  his  disguise, 
Vautrin  asked  his  aunt : 

"Is  she  here?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jacqueline.  "The  angel  retired  to  her  room 
half  an  hour  ago  to  tell  her  beads,  now  that  she  is  deprived 
of  attending  the  services  of  the  month  of  Mary.  But  she  im- 
patiently awaits  your  visit,  seeing  how  I  have  sung  your 
praises  all  day." 

"And  what  does  she  think  of  your  house  ?  Does  she  repent 
of  the  step  she  has  taken?" 

"Her  pride  would  in  any  case  be  too  great  to  allow  of  her 
showing  such  a  feeling.  Besides,  I  have  cleverly  won  her 
confidence,  and  she  is  one  of  those  persons  who  are  deter- 
mined never  to  look  back  when  once  they  have  started." 

"The  best  of  the  joke,"  said  Vautrin,  "is  that  her  Deputy, 
who  is  worried  about  her,  was  sent  to  me  by  Monsieur  le 
Prefet  that  I  might  help  him  to  find  her." 

"He  wants  her,  then  ?" 

"He  is  not  in  love  with  her,  you  understand,  but  he  con- 
sidered her  as  being  in  his  care,  and  he  was  afraid  that  she 
might  have  taken  it  into  her  head  to  kill  herself,  or  might 
have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  some  intriguing  woman.  And 
you  know  that,  but  for  my  fatherly  intervention,  he  would 
have  laid  his  finger  on  the  spot." 

"And  what  did  you  say  to  your  flat?" 

"Oh,  of  course  I  allowed  him  to  hope,  but  really  and  truly 
I  was  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  do  what  he  asked  me.  I  took  a 
fancy  to  him  at  once;  he  has  a  pleasant  way  with  him,  ener- 
getic and  clever,  and  it  strikes  me  that  our  friends  the  Min- 
istry will  find  him  a  pretty  tough  customer." 

"So  much  the  worse  for  him;  he  should  not  have  driven 
the  dear  child  to  extremities,"  said  tho  aunt.  "And  the  en- 
gagement, for  which  you  said  you  had  the  irons  in  the  fire  ?'* 


412  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"You  know  what  a  queer  thing  luck  is,  my  beauty/'  replied 
Vautrin,  taking  out  a  newspaper.  "Good  or  bad,  it  always 
come?  in  squalls.  This  morning,  after  receiving  your  letter, 
which  brought  me  such  good  news,  I  opened  this  theatrical 
journal  and  read  this  paragraph:  'The  Italian  opera  season 
in  London,  which  began  so  badly  by  the  lawsuit  that  brought 
to  light  the  pecuniary  difficulties  under  which  Sir  Francis 
Drake's  management  is  struggling,  seems  still  further  embar- 
rassed by  the  serious  illness  of  la  Serboni,  necessitating  her 
absence  from  the  stage  for  an  indefinite  period.  Sir  Francis 
arrived  yesterday  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes,  Rue  de  Richelieu, 
having  come  in  search  of  two  desiderata — a  prima  donna  and 
some  funds.  But  the  hapless  impresario  is  moving  in  a 
vicious  circle ;  for  without  money  no  prima  donna,  and  with- 
out a  prima  donna  no  money. 

"  'We  may  hope,  however,  that  he  will  escape  from  this 
deadlock;  for  Sir  Francis  Drake  has  a  character  for  being 
honest  and  intelligent,  and  with  such  a  reputation  he  will 
surely  not  find  every  door  closed  against  him.' ': 

"Men  of  the  world  are  your  journalists !"  said  the  old  aunt 
with  a  knowing  air.  "Is  every  door  to  be  thrown  open  be- 
cause a  man  is  honest  and  intelligent?" 

"In  the  present  case,"  said  Vautrin,  "the  phrase  is  not  so 
far  wrong;  for  the  moment  I  had  read  the  article  I  figged 
myself  out,  as  you  see,  took  a  private  fly,  and  went  off  to  the 
address  given. 

"'Sir  Francis  Drake?'  I  ask. 

"  'I  do  not  know  whether  he  can  see  you,  sir,'  says  the  gen- 
tleman's gentleman,  coming  forward ;  he  was  there,  I  strongly 
suspect,  to  give  the  same  answer  to  any  one  who  might  call. 
'He  is  with  the  Baron  de  Nucingen.' 

"I  made  believe  to  look  through  a  pocket-book  well  stuffed 
with  banknotes  for  a  card,  which,  of  course,  I  had  not  got. 

"  'Well,'  said  I,  with  a  slight  German  accent  and  a  sprin- 
kling of  Germanisms,  "I  am  Count  Halphertius,  a  Swedish 
gentleman.  Tell  Sir  Francis  Drake  I  had  come  for  to  discuss 
some  business.  I  shall  go  to  the  Bourse,  where  I  give  some 
orders  to  my  broker,  and  I  shall  come  back  after  a  half -hour.' 


THE    MEMBER    FOB    ARGIS  413 

"Saying  this  in  the  most  lordly  tone,  I  went  back  to  my 
carriage.  I  had  hardly  set  foot  on  the  step  when  the  lackey, 
running  after  me,  said  he  had  made  a  mistake ;  that  Monsieur 
de  Nucingen  was  gone,  and  his  master  could  see  me  at  once." 

"Trying  their  games  on  us !"  said  Jacqueline  Collin,  with  a 
shrug. 

"Sir  Francis  Drake,"  Vautrin  went  on,  "is  a  regular  Eng- 
lishman, very  bald,  with  a  red  nose,  and  large  prominent 
yellow  teeth.  He  received  me  with  frigid  politeness,  and 
asked  me  in  good  French  what  my  business  was. 

"  'Just  now/  said  I,  'at  the  Cafe  de  Paris,  I  read  this,'  and 
I  handed  him  the  paper,  pointing  to  the  place. 

"  'It  is  inconceivable,'  said  he,  returning  me  the  newspaper, 
'that  a  man's  credit  should  be  thus  cried  down  publicly.' 

"  'The  journalist  is  wrong  ?    You  have  no  want  of  money  ?' 

"  'You  may  imagine,  monsieur,  that  I  should  not  in  any 
case  try  to  obtain  it  through  the  medium  of  a  theatrical 
journal.' 

"  'Very  good  !  Then  have  we  nothing  to  talk  about  ?'  said  I, 
rising.  'I  come  to  put  some  money  in  your  business.' 

"  'I  would  rather  you  had  a  prima  donna  to  offer  me !' 
said  he. 

"  'I  offer  you  both,'  said  I,  sitting  down  again.  'One  not 
without  the  other.' 

"  'A  well-known  talent  ?'  asked  the  impresario. 

"  'Not  at  all  known,'  replied  I.  'Never  seen  yet  at  any 
theatre.' 

"  'Hum — risky,'  said  the  gentleman  with  a  cunning  look. 
'The  protectors  of  youthful  talent  often  make  great  mistakes.' 

"  'But  I  offer  you  a  hundred  thousand  crowns — as  an  in- 
vestment— for  you  only  for  to  listen  to  my  nightingale.' 

"  'That  would  be  a  large  sum  for  so  little  trouble,  and  but 
a  small  one  as  a  help  to  my  management  if  it  were  in  such 
difficulties  as  your  paper  says.' 

"  'Well,  then,  hear  us  for  nothing ;  if  we  are  what  you  want, 
and  you  make  a  handsome  offer,  I  will  put  down  twice  so 
much.' 


414  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARGIS 

"'You  speak  with  a  freedom  that  invites  confidence;  from 
what  country  is  your  young  prima?' 

"  'Roman — of  Home — a  pure-bred  Italian,  and  very  hand- 
some. You  may  believe  if  I  am  interested  in  her;  I  went 
mad  about  her,  only  for  that  I  had  heard  her  a  long  way  off 
in  a  church.  I  did  not  see  her  till  afterwards.' 

"  'But  it  strikes  me,'  said  the  Englishman,  'that  women  do 
not  sing  in  church  in  Italy.' '' 

"Well !"  said  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,  "are  there  churches 
nowhere  but  in  Italy  ?" 

"Precisely,"  said  Vautrin.  "I  felt  that  to  give  some  ap- 
pearance of  reality  to  my  disguise  and  my  proceedings,  I  must 
assume  some  suspicion  of  eccentricity ;  so  seizing  the  oppor- 
tunity of  getting  up  a  German  quarrel : 

"  'I  beg  to  remark,  monsieur,'  said  I  in  a  very  pugnacious 
tone,  'that  you  have  done  me  the  honor  to  give  me  the  lie.' 

"  'What !'  said  the  Englishman  in  amazement,  "'nothing 
could  be  further  from  my  thoughts.' 

"  'It  is  plainly  so,  all  the  same,'  said  I.  'I  tell  you,  I  heard 
the  signora  in  church ;  you  say,  "Women  do  not  sing  in  church 
in  Italy" — that  is  so  much  as  to  say  I  shall  not  have  heard 
her.' 

"  'But  you  may  have  heard  her  in  another  country.' 

"  'You  should  have  thought  of  that,'  said  I,  in  the  same 
quarrelsome  tone,  'before  you  made  that  remark — extraordi- 
nary remark.  At  any  rate,  I  see  we  shall  not  agree.  The  sig- 
nora can  wait  till  the  Italian  Opera  opens  in  Paris  in  October. 
Artists  get  much  better  known  here.  So,  Monsieur  Drake, 
I  wish  you  a  good-morning.'  And  I  really  seemed  about  to 
leave." 

"Well  played !"  said  his  aunt. 

In  all  the  most  risky  affairs  undertaken  by  them  in  common, 
they  had  always  duly  considered  the  artistic  side. 

"Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,"  said  Vautrin,  "having 
thus  brought  my  man  to  the  sticking-point,  we  parted  on 
these  terms — I  am  to  put  down  a  hundred  thousand  crowns 
in  money,  the  signora  gets  fifty  thousand  francs  for  the  re- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  415 

mainder  of  the  season,  supposing  her  voice  is  satisfactory; 
and,  to  judge  of  her  quality,  we  are  to  meet  to-morrow  at  two 
o'clock  at  Pape's,  where  Sir  Francis  Drake  will  have  brought 
two  or  three  friends  to  assist  him,  to  whose  presence  I  have 
consented.  We  are  to  be  supposed  to  have  gone  to  choose  a 
piano.  I  said,  just  to  keep  up  the  game,  that  the  lady  might 
be  terrified  at  the  solemnity  of  a  formal  hearing,  and  that  we 
are  more  sure  in  this  way  of  knowing  what  she  can  really  do." 

"But  I  say,  old  boy,"  said  Jacqueline,  "a  hundred  thousand 
crowns  is  a  lot  of  money!" 

"Just  the  sum  that  I  inherited  from  that  poor  boy  Lucien 
de  Rubempre,"  said  Vautrin  carelessly.  "However,  I  have 
gone  into  the  matter.  Sir  Francis  Drake,  with  some  one  to 
back  him,  may  have  a  very  good  season. — There  is  my  secre- 
tary, Theodore  Calvi,  who  is  mine  for  life  or  death.  He  is 
very  alert  on  all  questions  of  interest.  I  have  secured  him  the 
place  of  cashier,  and  he  will  keep  an  eye  on  the  partner's 
profits.  Now,  there  is  but  one  thing  that  I  am  anxious  about. 
Signora  Luigia  moved  me  deeply,  but  I  am  no  connoisseur; 
artists  may  not  think  of  her  as  I  do." 

"Artists  have  pronounced  on  her,  my  ducky;  her  sculptor 
never  thought  of  giving  her  the  key  of  the  fields  till  she  had 
been  heard  by  a  certain  Jacques  Bricheteau,  an  organist  and  a 
first-rate  musician.  They  were  at  Saint-Sulpice  the  very  even- 
ing of  your  pious  fit,  and  the  organist  declared  that  the  wo- 
man had  sixty  thousand  francs  in  her  voice  whenever  she 
pleased — those  were  his  words." 

"Jacques  Bricheteau !"  said  Vautrin ;  "why,  I  know  the 
man.  There  is  a  fellow  of  that  name  employed  in  one  of  the 
police  departments." 

"Well,  then,"  said  his  aunt,  "it  is  your  nightingale's  good 
fortune  to  be  under  the  protection  of  the  police !" 

"No,  I  remember,"  said  Vautrin.  "This  Jacques  Briche- 
teau was  an  inspector  of  nuisances,  who  has  just  been  dis- 
missed for  meddling  in  politics.  Well,  now,  suppose  you  were 
to  effect  the  introduction.  It  is  late." 


416  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

Jacqueline  Collin  had  hardly  left  the  room  to  go  for  Luigia, 
when  there  was  a  great  commotion  in  the  ante-room  leading 
to  it.  Immediately  after,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  in 
spite  of  a  desperate  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  negro,  who 
had  been  expressly  ordered  to  admit  nobody  whatever,  in  came 
a  personage  whose  advent  was,  to  say  the  least,  inopportune, 
if  not  altogether  unexpected.  In  spite  of  an  insolently 
aristocratic  demeanor,  the  newcomer,  caught  in  his  violence 
by  a  stranger,  was  for  a  moment  disconcerted,  and  Vautrin 
was  malicious  enough  to  intensify  the  situation  by  saying 
with  Teutonic  bluntness: 

"Monsieur-  is  an  intimate  friend  of  Madame  de  Saint- 
Esteve's?" 

"I  have  something  of  importance  to  say  to  her,"  replied 
the  intruder,  "and  that  servant  is  such  an  ass  that  he  cannot 
tell  you  plainly  whether  his  mistress  is  at  home  or  out." 

"I  can  bear  witness  that  she  is  out,"  replied  the  supposed 
Count  Halphertius.  "For  more  than  an  hour  I  have  wait 
for  to  see  her,  by  her  own  appointment.  She  is  a  flighty 
thing,  and  I  believe  she  is  gone  to  the  theatre,  for  what  her 
nephew  have  sent  her  a  ticket,  the  negro  telled  me." 

"At  whatever  hour  she  may  come  in  I  must  see  her,"  said 
the  newcomer,  taking  an  easy-chair,  into  which  he  settled 
himself. 

"For  me,  I  wait  no  longer/'  replied  Vautrin. 

And,  having  bowed,  he  prepared  to  leave.  Then  Madame 
de  Saint-Esteve  appeared  on  the  scene.  Warned  by  the  negro, 
she  had  put  on  a  bonnet  and  thrown  a  shawl  over  her 
shoulders,  to  appear  as  if  she  had  just  come  in. 

"Gracious !"  she  exclaimed,  with  well-feigned  surprise. 
"Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles,  here,  at  this  hour!" 

"Devil  take  you!  what  do  you  mean  by  shouting  out  my 
name?"  said  her  customer  in  an  undertone. 

Vautrin,  entering  into  the  farce,  turned  back,  and  coming 
up  with  an  obsequious  bow: 

"Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Eonquerolles  ?"  said  he,  "Peer  of 
France,  formerly  her  ambassador.  I  am  glad  to  have  spent 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  417 

a  minute  with  a  statesman  so  well  known — a  so  perfect  diplo- 
mate !" 

And  with  a  respectful  flourish  he  went  to  the  door. 

"What,  Baron,  going  so  soon  ?"  said  the  old  woman,  trying 
to  assume  the  tone  and  accent  of  a  dowager  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Germain. 

"Yes.  Monsieur  le  Marquis  has  much  to  talk  to  you.  I 
shall  return  back  to-morrow  at  eleven — and  be  punctual." 

"Very  well;  to-morrow  at  eleven,"  said  his  aunt.  "But 
I  may  tell  you  everything  is  going  on  swimmingly;  the  lady 
thinks  you  will  be  all  she  could  wish." 

Another  bow,  and  Vautrin  was  gone. 

"Who  in  the  world  is  that  strange  creature  ?"  asked  Ronque- 
rolles. 

"A  Prussian  Baron  for  whom  I  am  finding  a  wife,"  re- 
plied the  woman  "Well,"  she  went  on,  "is  there  anything 
new  that  you  so  pressingly  want  to  speak  to  me  ?" 

"Yes.  And  something  which  you  ought  to  have  known  I 
The  fair  one  left  the  sculptors  house  this  morning." 

"Pooh!"  said  Jacqueline.     "Who  told  you  that?" 

"My  man,  who  has  seen  the  maid-of-all-work." 

"Hah ! — Then  you  keep  several  irons  hot !"  said  she,  glad 
of  an  excuse  for  a  quarrel. 

"My  good  woman,  you  were  making  no  way  at  all,  and  the 
matter  has  been  in  hand  a  month " 

"You  seem  to  think  that  all  you  want  is  to  be  had  ready- 
made,  and  that  an  Italian  is  the  same  soft  tinder  as  your 
Paris  sluts ! — And  then  you  are  so  liberal !" 

"Why,  you  have  extracted  more  than  three  banknotes  for 
a  thousand  francs  already  for  your  sham'  expenses." 

"A  perfect  fortune !  And  what  about  the  engagement  you 
undertook  to  arrange?" 

"Can  I  open  the  Italian  Opera  expressly  for  that  woman  ? 
If  she  would  have  sung  at  the  French  house " 

"There  is  Italian  Opera  in  London  though  not  in  Paris 
for  the  moment,  and  the  manager,  as  it  happens,  is  over  here 
in  search  of  a  prima." 


418  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"So  I  saw  in  the  papers,  of  course;  but  what  good  could  I 
do  by  trying  to  deal  with  a  bankrupt?" 

"Why,  that  is  your  best  chance.  You  bolster  up  the  man, 
and  then,  out  of  gratitude " 

"Oh,  certainly  !"  said  the  Marquis,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 
"A  mere  trifle  of  five  hundred  thousand  francs — what  la 
Torpille  cost  Nucingen !" 

"My  good  man,  you  want  the  woman  or  you  don't.  Esther 
had  tried  the  streets.  This  Italian  is  at  least  as  handsome, 
and  virtuous — green  seal !  Then  she  has  a  glorious  voice. 
You  have  forked  out  three  thousand-franc  notes ;  what  is  that, 
pray,  to  make  such  a  noise  about  ?" 

"Did  you  or  did  you  not  undertake  the  business?" 

"I  did.  And  I  ought  to  have  it  left  entirely  to  me;  and 
if  I  had  supposed  that  I  was  going  to  be  checked  off  by  your 
man-servant,  I  would  have  asked  you  to  apply  elsewhere.  I  do 
not  care  to  have  a  partner  in  the  game." 

"But,  you  conceited  old  thing,  but  for  that  fellow,  would 
you  have  known  what  I  have  just  told  you  ?" 

"And  did  he  tell  you  the  rest  of  the  story  ?" 

"The  rest  of  the  story  ?    What  ?"  said  the  Marquis  eagerly. 

"Certainly.  Who  got  the  bird  out  of  its  nest,  and  in  what 
cage  it  may  be  at  this  present  speaking." 

"Then  you  know?"  cried  Ronquerolles. 

"If  I  do  not  know,  I  can  make  a  guess." 

"Then,  tell  me,"  said  he,  in  great  excitement. 

"You,  who  know  every  queer  specimen,  old  or  young,  in 
the  Paris  menagerie,  must  certainly  have  heard  of  Count 
Halphertius,  a  Swede — enormously  rich,  and  just  arrived." 

"I  never  heard  his  name  till  this  moment." 

"You  had  better  ask  your  servant ;  he  can  tell  you." 

"Come,  come;  do  not  try  finessing.  This  Count  Halpher- 
tius, you  say ?" 

"Is  music-mad — and  as  woman-mad  as  Nucingen." 

"And  you  think  that  la  Luigia  will  have  flown  that  way?" 

"I  know  that  he  was  hovering  round  her ;  he  even  charged 
me  to  make  her  splendid  offers,  and  if  I  had  not  pledged 
myself  to  you " 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  419 

"Oh,  I  daresay ;  you  are  a  dame  of  such  lofty  virtue !" 

"Is  that  the  way  you  take  it  ?"  said  Jacqueline  Collin,  put- 
ting her  hand  in  her  pocket  and  pulling  out  a  purse  fairly 
well  filled  with  notes.  "You  can  take  your  money  back,  my 
boy,  and  I  only  beg  you  to  trouble  me  no  further." 

"Get  along,  you  wrong-headed  creature/'  replied  the  Mar- 
quis, seeing  three  thousand-franc  notes  held  out  to  him. 
"What  I  have  given,  you  know  I  never  take  back." 

"And  I  never  keep  what  I  have  not  earned. — You  are  done, 
Monsieur  le  Marquis.  I  am  working  for  Count  Halphertius ; 
I  brought  away  the  lady ;  she  is  hidden  here,  in  my  rooms,  and 
to-morrow  morning  she  and  the  Swede  set  out  for  London, 
where  a  splendid  engagement  is  waiting  for  her !" 

"No,  no,  I  do  not  believe  that  you  would  cheat  me,"  said 
Eonquerolles,  fancying  that  the  fact  thus  fired  at  him  point- 
blank  was  really  the  sarcasm  it  appeared.  "We  are  old  friends, 
you  know ;  pocket  those  banknotes,  and  tell  me  honestly  what 
you  think  of  this  rich  foreigner  as  a  rival." 

"Well,  I  have  told  you.  He  is  enormously  rich;  he  will 
stick  at  no  sacrifice ;  and  I  know  that  he  has  had  several  talks 
with  Madame  Nourrisson." 

"Then  you  learned  all  those  facts  from  that  old  carrion?" 

"Madame  Nourrisson  is  my  friend,"  said  Madame  de  Saint- 
Esteve,  with  much  dignity.  "We  may  be  competing  to  gain 
the  same  prize,  but  that  is  no  reason  for  her  being  evil-spoken 
of  in  my  presence." 

"Did  she  tell  you  at  least  where  this  Count  Halphertius 
is  living?" 

"No.  But  I  know  that  he  was  to  start  for  London  yester- 
day. That  is  why  I  ran  alongside  before  I  put  the  flea  in 
your  ear." 

"It  is  very  evident  the  Italian  woman  is  gone  off  to  join 
him." 

"You  may  very  likely  be  right." 

"A  pretty  mess  you  have  made  of  it !"  said  Ronquerolles  as 
he  rose. 


4zt)  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"Indeed !"  said  Jacqueline  insolently.  "And  were  you 
never  checkmated  in  your  diplomatic  business  ?" 

"Do  you  suppose  you  will  get  any  more  exact  informa- 
tion?" 

"We  will  see/'  said  she.  It  was  her  formula  for  promising 
her  assistance. 

"But  no  underhand  tricks,"  cried  the  Marquis.  "You 
know  I  do  not  understand  a  joke." 

"Will  the  case  be  brought  before  the  Chamber  of  Peers?" 
said  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,  who  was  not  a  woman  to  be 
easily  daunted. 

Without  answering  this  piece  of  insolence,  Eonquerolles 
only  remarked: 

"You  might  perhaps  desire  your  nephew  to  help  in  your 
inquiries." 

"Yes,"  said  Jacqueline;  "I  think  it  would  not  be  amiss  to 
tell  him  something  about  the  matter — without  naming  you, 
of  course." 

"And  if  at  any  time  I  can  be  of  use  to  him  with  his  chief, 
you  know,  I  am  as  staunch  a  friend  as  I  am  a  dangerous  foe." 

Thereupon  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  and  her  client  parted, 
and  as  soon  as  the  enemy's  coach-wheels  were  heard  in  the 
distance,  the  virtuous  matron  had  no  occasion  to  go  in  search 
of  her  nephew.  He  had  gone  round  by  a  back  passage,  and 
come  to  wait  in  the  room  behind  the  drawing-room,  whence 
he  had  overheard  everything. 

"You  tricked  .him  neatly !"  said  Vautrin.  "We  will  con- 
trive by  little  scraps  of  information  to  keep  his  head  in  the 
trough  for  a  few  days  longer;  but  now  go  at  once  and  fetch 
our  'Helen,'  for  unless  it  is  too  late  you  ought  to  introduce  UP." 

"Be  easy;  I  will  settle  that,"  said  his  aunt,  who  a  minute 
/ater  came  back  with  the  handsome  housekeeper. 

"Signora  Luigia — Monsieur  le  Comte  Halphertius,"  said 
she,  introducing  them  to  each  other. 

"Signora,"  said  Vautrin  ifi  the  most  respectful  tone,  "my 
friend  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  tells  me  you  will  permit  me 
to  take  some  interest  for  your  affairs 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARGIS  421 

"Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,"  replied  Luigia,  who  had 
learned  to  speak  French  perfectly,  "has  spoken  of  you  as  a 
man  with  a  great  knowledge  of  art." 

"That  is  to  say,  I  am  passionately  devoted  to  it,  and  my  for- 
tune allows  me  to  do  all  I  can  to  encourage  it.  You,  madame, 
have  a  splendid  gift." 

"That  remains  to  be  proved,  if  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  get 
a  chance  of  being  heard." 

"You  may  come  out  when  you  choose.  I  have  seen  the 
manager  of  the  Italians  theatre  in  London ;  he  shall  hear  you 
to-morrow — it  is  settled." 

"I  am  deeply  grateful  for  the  trouble  you  have  been  so 
good  as  to  take ;  but  before  accepting  your  kind  offices,  I  wish 
to  come  to  a  clear  understanding." 

"I  love  to  be  frank,"  said  Vautrin. 

"I  am  poor  and  alone  in  the  world,"  said  Luigia;  "I  am 
considered  good-looking,  and  at  any  rate  I  am  young.  It 
behooves  me,  therefore,  to  be  circumspect  in  accepting  the 
eager  benevolence  that  is  shown  me.  In  France,  I  am  told, 
it  is  rarely  disinterested." 

"Disinterestedness,"  said  Vautrin,  "I  shall  promise.  But 
as  to  hindering  tongues  of  talking — I  shall  not  promise." 

"Oh !  as  for  talk,"  said  his  aunt,  "that  you  may  make  up 
your  mind  to.  Monsieur  le  Comte's  age  even  will  not  stop  their 
wagging — for,  in  fact,  a  younger  man  is  more  likely  to  devote 

himself  to  a  woman  without  any  idea  of In  Paris  your 

old  bachelors  are  all  reprobates!" 

"I  shall  not  have  ideas,"  said  Vautrin.  "If  I  am  so  happy 
to  be  of  use  for  the  signora,  which  I  admire  her  talent  so 
much,  she  shall  let  me  be  her  friend;  but  if  I  fail  in  my  re- 
spect to  her,  she  shall  be  independent  for  that  talent,  and  she 
shall  turn  me  out  of  her  door  like  a  servant  that  shall  rob 
her." 

"And  I  hear,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  that  you  have  already 
been  kind  enough  to  inquire  about  an  engagement  for  me?" 

"It  is  almost  settle,"  said  Vautrin.  "To-morrow  you  shall 
sing ;  and  if  your  voice  shall  satisfy  the  manager  of  the  Ital- 


422  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

ians  in  London,  it  is  fifty  thousand  francs  for  the  rest  of  the 
season." 

"It  is  a  dream,"  said  Luigia.  "And,  perhaps,  when  he 
shall  have  heard  me " 

"He  will  be  of  the  same  opinion  as  that  Monsieur  Jacques 
Bricheteau,"  replied  Jacqueline.  "He  said  you  had  sixty 
thousand  francs  in  your  voice — so  you  are  still  robbed  of  ten 
thousand  francs." 

"Oh !  as  to  his  promise  to  pay  fifty  thousand  francs  as  soon 
as  he  has  heard  you,"  said  Vautrin,  "I  have  no  fear.  Then 
to  pay  them — that  is  another  thing.  He  wants  money,  they 
say.  But  we  will  have  the  agreement  made  by  some  clever 
man,  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  shall  find  him ;  and  the  signora 
shall  not  have  to  think  about  the  money — that  is  her  friends' 
concern.  She  shall  think  only  of  her  parts." 

Vautrin,  as  he  said,  "Then  to  pay  them — that  is  another 

thing "  had  managed  to  touch  his  aunt's  foot  with  his 

own.  She  understood. 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  she,  "I  believe  he  will  pay  very 
punctually.  He  will  not  care  to  quarrel  with  us,  my  dear 
Count.  It  is  not  every  day  that  you  come  across  a  man  who, 
to  secure  an  engagement,  is  ready  to  risk  a  sum  of  a  hundred 
thousand  crowns." 

"What,  monsieur !  you  are  prepared  to  make  such  a  sacrifice 
for  my  sake  ! — I  can  never  allow  it " 

"My  good  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,"  said  Vautrin,  "you 
are  a  tell-tale.  I  am  risking  nothing ;  I  have  looked  into  the 
matter,  and  at  the  end  of  the  season  I  shall  have  my  benefits; 
besides,  I  am  v-e-ery  rich,  I  am  a  widower,  I  have  not  chil- 
dren ;  and  if  part  of  that  money  shall  be  lost,  I  shall  not  for 
that  hang  myself." 

"Nevertheless,  monsieur,  I  will  not  permit  such  a  piece  of 
folly." 

"Then  you  do  not  want  me  for  your  friend,  and  you  are 
afraid  you  shall  be  compromised  if  I  help  you  ?" 

"In  Italy,  monsieur,  such  a  protector  is  quite  recognized; 
and  so  long  as  there  is  nothing  wrong,  nobody  cares  for  ap- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  423 

pearances ;  but  I  cannot  entertain  the  idea  of  allowing  you  to 
risk  so  large  a  sum  on  my  account." 

"If  it  were  a  risk,  no.  But  the  risk  is  so  small  that  your 
engagement  and  the  hundred  thousand  crowns  are  two  sepa- 
rate things,  and  I  shall  enter  into  partnership  with  the 
director  even  if  you  refuse." 

"Come,  come,  pretty  one,"  said  Jacqueline,  "you  must 
make  up  your  mind  to  owing  fhis  service  to  my  friend  Hal- 
phertius;  you  know  that  if  I  thought  it  was  likely  to  carry 
you  further  than  you  think  quite  right,  I  should  have  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  Talk  it  over  with  your  confessor,  and  you  will 
see  what  he  says  about  it." 

"I  would  in  Italy ;  but  in  France  I  should  not  consult  him 
about  a  theatrical  engagement." 

"Well,  then,  signora,"  said  Vautrin,  in  the  kindest  way, 
"consider  your  career  as  an  artist.  It  lies  before  you,  a  splen- 
did road!  And  when  every  paper  in  Europe  is  full  of  the 
Diva  Luigia,  there  will  be  a  good  many  people  greatly  vexed 
to  think  that  they  failed  to  recognize  so  great  an  artist,  and  to 
keep  on  friendly  terms  with  her." 

Vautrin  knew  men's  minds  too  well  not  to  have  calculated 
the  effect  of  this  allusion  to  the  secret  sorrow  of  the  Italian 
girl's  heart.  The  poor  woman's  eyes  flashed,  and  she  gasped 
for  breath. 

"Monsieur  le  Comte,"  said  she,  "may  I  really  trust  you?" 

"Undoubtedly;  and  all  the  more  so,  because  if  I  spend 
the  money,  I  expect  to  get  some  little  return." 

"And  that  is ?"  said  Luigia. 

"That  you  show  me  some  kind  feeling ;  that  the  world  shall 
believe  me  to  be  happier  than  I  really  shall  be ;  and  that  you 
do  nothing  to  deprive  me  of  that  little  sop  to  my  pride,  with 
which  I  promise  to  be  content." 

"I  do  not  quite  understand,"  said  the  Italian,  knitting  her 
brows. 

"And  yet  nothing  can  be  plainer,"  said  Madame  de  Saint- 
Estove.  "My  friend  here  does  not  wish  to  look  a  fool;  and 
if  while  he  is  visibly  your  protector  you  were  to  take  up  with 


424  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

your  deputy  again,  or  fall  in  love  with  somebody  else,  his 
part,  as  you  may  understand,  would  not  be  a  handsome 
one." 

"I  shall  never  be  anything  to  the  Count  but  a  grateful  and 
sincere  friend/'  said  Luigia.  "But  I  shall  be  no  more  for 
any  other  man — especially  for  the  man  of  whom  you  speak. 
I  did  not  break  up  my  life,  dear  madame,  without  due  con- 
sideration." 

"But  you  see,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  woman,  thus  show- 
ing a  profound  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  "that  the 
men  of  whom  we  declare  that  we  have  washed  our  hands  are 
often  just  the  most  dangerous." 

"You  speak  as  a  Frenchwoman,  madame,"  said  the  Italian. 

"Then  to-morrow,"  said  Vautrin,  "I  have  your  permission 
to  come  for  you  and  take  you  to  meet  this  manager?  Of 
course,  you  know  many  of  the  parts  in  stock  opera  ?" 

"I  know  all  the  parts  taken  by  Malibran  and  Pasta,"  said 
Luigia,  who  had  been  studying  indefatigably  for  two  years 
past. 

"And  you  will  not  change  your  mind  in  the  course  of  the 
night?"  said  Vautrin  insinuatingly. 

"Here  is  my  hand  on  it,"  said  Luigia,  with  artless  frank- 
ness. "I  do  not  know  whether  bargains  are  ratified  so  in 
France." 

"Ah,  Diva,  Diva !"  cried  Vautrin,  with  the  most  burlesque 
caricature  of  dilettante  admiration;  and  he  lightly  touched 
the  fair  hand  he  held  with  his  lips. 

When  we  remember  the  terrible  secret  of  this  man's  past 
life,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  Human  Comedy — nay,  I 
should  say,  Human  Life — has  some  strange  doublings. 

The  success  of  the  singer's  trial  was  far  beyond  Vautrin's 
expectations.  The  hearers  were  unanimously  in  favor  of 
Luigia's  engagement.  Xay,  if  they  had  listened  to  Sir 
Francis  Drake,  it  would  have  been  signed  then  and  there, 
and  the  singer  would  have  set  out  the  same  day  for  London, 
where,  owing  to  La  Serboni's  illness,  Her  Majesty's  Theatre 
was  in  great  straits. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  425 

But  Vautrin,  when  once  that  side  of  the  question  was 
settled,  wished  to  make  further  inquiries  as  to  the  money  to 
be  invested;  and  instead  of  Signora  Luigia,  it  was  he,  at- 
tended by  his  secretary,  who  accompanied  the  impresario  to 
England  with  a  view  to  looking  into  matters.  In  the  event 
of  finding  the  position  altogether  untenable,  he  was  quite 
prepared  to  withdraw  his  offer  with  cool  faithlessness,  as  the 
diva's  engagement  no  longer  depended  on  the  advance  of 
capital  which  he  had  at  first  been  prepared  to  risk. 

As  he  was  starting,  he  said  to  his  aunt: 

"To-day  is  the  17th  of  May;  at  seven  in  the  evening 
on  the  21st,  I  shall  be  back  in  Paris  with  Sir  Francis  Drake. 
Meanwhile,  take  care  that  our  protegee  is  provided  with  a 
suitable  outfit.  No  absurd  magnificence,  as  if  you  were  dress- 
ing up  a  courtesan,  but  handsome  things  in  the  best  style, 
not  loud  or  too  startling  to  the  signora's  good  taste.  In  short, 
just  what  you  would  buy  for  your  daughter,  if  you  had  one, 
and  she  were  going  to  be  married. 

"For  that  same  day,  the  21st,  order  a  dinner  for  fifteen 
from  Chevet.  The  party  will  consist  of  the  leaders  of  the 
press;  your  client  Bixiou  will  get  them  together.  You,  of 
course,  as  mistress  of  the  house,  but  I  entreat  you,  dress 
quietly — nothing  to  scare  the  guests.  Then  I  must  have  a 
clever  man  of  business  to  look  through  the  papers  before  we 
sign,  and  a  pianist  to  accompany  the  Diva,  who  shall  sing  us 
something  after  dinner.  You  must  prepare  her  to  give  a 
taste  of  her  best  quality  to  all  those  trumpeters  of  fame.  Sir 
Francis  Drake  and  I  make  the  party  up  to  fifteen.  I  need 
not  say  that  it  is  your  friend  Count  Halphertius  who  gives 
the  dinner  at  your  house,  because  he  has  none  of  his  own  in 
Paris ;  and  everything  is  to  be  of  the  best,  elegant  and  refined, 
that  it  may  be  talked  about  everywhere." 

After  giving  these  instructions,  Yautrin  got  into  a  post- 
chaise,  knowing  Jacqueline  Collin  well  enough  to  feel  sure 
that  his  orders  would  be  carried  out  with  intelligence  and 
punctuality. 


426  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

When  Vautrin  had  mentioned  Bixiou  as  the  recruiting- 
sergeant  of  his  company,  this  was  what  he  had  meant  by  call- 
ing him  her  "client/' 

Among  the  various  secret  sources  of  wealth  that  helped  to 
swell  the  ever-increasing  fortune  which  Rastignac  had  scented 
under  Saint-Esteve's  social  status,  usury,  of  course,  had  not 
been  disdained.  Though  economists  have  gone  so  far  as  to 
maintain  that  money  is  a  form  of  merchandise  of  which  the 
price  is  wrongfully  fixed  by  law,  for  consciences  as  broad  as 
those  of  Vautrin  and  his  aunt  the  provisions  of  the  penal 
code  were  an  obstacle  only  in  so  far  as  they  failed  to  elude 
them — but  who  is  the  fool  who  allows  himself  to  be  caught  in 
the  clutches  of  the  code  ?  Unless  he  has  never  read  Moliere's 
Avare,  he  cannot  help  being  aware  of  the  Mditre  Simon,  who, 
from  time  immemorial,  has  stood  as  a  screen  between  the  ex- 
tortionate money-lender's  transactions  and  the  vexations  of 
the  law. 

Now,  Master  Bixiou,  whose  extremely  free-and-easy  life 
frequently  compelled  him  to  have  recourse  to  his  credit,  had, 
through  an  intermediary,  found  himself  in  business  relations 
with  Jacqueline  Collin ;  and  by  his  monkey-skill  in  worming 
out  mysteries,  especially  such  as  might  interest  himself,  in 
spite  of  the  queer  disguises  in  which  she  involved  herself,  he 
had  succeeded  in  getting  face  to  face  with  his  creditor. 
Then,  one  day,  being  quite  unable  to  meet  a  bill  which  would 
fall  due  on  the  morrow,  he  had  boldly  attacked  the  ogress,  to 
work  the  miracle  of  extracting  a  renewal  on  favorable  terms. 
The  woman  liked  a  man  of  spirit,  and,  like  all  wild  beasts, 
she  had  her  intervals  of  ruth.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that 
Bixiou  had  done  his  utmost  to  propitiate  her;  he  was  witty 
under  his  reverses,  full  of  dazzling  paradox  and  theories  of 
jovial  immorality,  which  so  effectually  bewildered  the  money- 
lender, that  not  only  did  she  renew  the  bill,  but  she  had  even 
lent  him  a  further  sum;  and  this  sum,  to  crown  the  marvel, 
he  had  actually  repaid  her. 

Hence,  between  the  artist  and  the  "matrimonial  agent" 
there  arose  a  certain  friendly  feeling.  Bixiou,  not  knowing 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  427 

what  the  terrible  creature  was  with  whom  he  rubbed 
shoulders,  flattered  himself  that  it  was  his  cleverness  that 
made  her  laugh,  and  now  and  then,  when  he  was  at  his  wits' 
end,  enabled  him  to  soften  her  to  the  extent  of  a  few 
napoleons;  he  did  not  know  that  he  was  the  dog  of  the  raree 
show  in  the  lion's  den ;  and  that  this  woman,  in  whose  past  life 
there  had  been  incidents  a  la  Brinvilliers,  was  not  incapable 
of  making  him  pay  with  his  life  for  his  insolent  familiarity, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  interest  on  her  loans. 

Meanwhile,  and  pending  this  fatal  termination,  which  was 
not  very  probable,  Jacqueline  Collin  did  not  hesitate  to  employ 
this  jovial  gossip  in  the  ferreting  he  practised  so  successfully ; 
indeed,  she  not  unfrequently  gave  him,  without  his  knowing 
it,  a  part  to  play  in  the  shady  imbroglios  that  were  the  oc- 
cupation of  her  life. 

In  the  affair  of  Luigia,  the  caricaturist  was  wonderfully 
useful ;  through  him  she  could  insure  publicity  for  the  rumor 
of  Count  Halphertius'  appearance  on  the  Parisian  horizon, 
his  passion  for  the  singer,  and  the  immense  sums  he  was  pre- 
pared to  put  down  in  her  behalf.  And  it  must  be  said  that 
his  universal  acquaintance  with  the  writing,  singing,  paint- 
ing, eating,  rollicking,  swarming  world  of  Paris,  made  him 
capable  above  other  men  of  recruiting  the  full  complement  of 
celebrity-makers  that  Vautrin  required. 

On  the  21st,  at  seven  o'clock  precisely,  all  the  guests,  of 
whom  Desroches  had  given  Bixiou  the  list,  and  Desroches 
himself,  were  assembled  in  the  drawing-room  in  the  Eue  de 
Provence  when  the  negro  announced  Sir  Francis  Drake  and 
Count  Halphertius,  who  had  insisted  on  not  being  named 
first.  The  Swedish  gentleman's  dress  was  admirably  correct : 
a  black  suit,  white  waistcoat,  and  white  tie,  over  which  the 
ribbon  of  a  fancy  order  hung  round  his  neck.  His  other 
decorations  were  fastened  at  his  button-hole  by  little  chains, 
but  he  had  not  dared  to  flaunt  a  star  sewn  to  his  coat. 

As  he  glanced  at  the  assembled  circle,  Vautrin  was  an- 
noyed to  perceive  that  his  aunt's  habits  and  instincts  had 


428  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

proved  stronger  than  his  special  and  express  injunctions, 
and  a  sort  of  turban,  green  and  yellow,  would  have  put  him 
seriously  out  of  temper,  but  that  the  skill  she  had  shown 
in  carrying  out  all  his  other  wishes  won  forgiveness  for  her 
head-dress.  As  for  Luigia,  dressed,  as  usual,  in  black,  hav- 
ing had  the  wisdom  to  refuse  the  assistance  of  a  hairdresser 
who  had  vainly  attempted  to  reduce  what  he  called  the  dis- 
order of  her  hair,  she  was  supremely  beautiful;  and  an  air 
of  melancholy  gravity  stamped  on  all  her  person  compelled 
a  feeling  of  respect,  which  surprised  these  men,  to  whom 
Bixiou  had  spoken  of  her  as  awaiting  their  verdict. 

The  only  person  who  was  specially  introduced  to  Vautrin 
was  Desroches,  whom  Bixiou  brought  up  to  him  with  this 
jovially  emphatic  formula: 

"Maitre  Desroches,  the  most  intelligent  attorney  of  modern 
times." 

As  to  Sir  Francis  Drake,  if  he  seemed  a  shade  less  scorn- 
ful than  he  had  intended  to  be  of  the  influence  of  journalism 
as  affecting  the  supply  of  capital,  it  was  because  he  happened 
to  be  acquainted  with  Felicien  Vernou  and  Lousteau,  two 
writers  for  the  journalistic  press,  with  whom  he  shook  hands 
warmly. 

Before  dinner  was  announced,  Count  Halphertius  thought 
it  his  part  to  make  a  little  speech;  and  after  a  few  minutes' 
conversation  with  Signora  Luigia,  to  whom  he  had  good 
taste  enough  not  to  speak  till  he  had  been  in  the  room  a  short 
while,  he  ostensibly  addressed  Madame  do  Saint-Esteve,  but 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  all  who  were  present. 

"My  dear  madame,"  said  he  to  his  aunt,  "you  are  really 
a  wonderful  woman.  The  first  time  I  find  myself  in  a  Paris 
drawing-room,  and  you  make  me  to  meet  all  that  is  most  dis- 
tinguished in  literature,  in  arts,  and  in  the  world  of  business. 
I,  what  am  only  a  northern  barbarian,  though  my  country 
has  its  famous  men — Linnaeus,  Berzelius,  the  great  Thorvald- 
sen,  Tegner,  Franzen,  Geier,  and  our  charming  novelist, 
Frederica  Bremer — I  am  here  astonished  and  timid,  and  1 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  429 

do  not  know  how  to  say  to  you  that  I  am  so  extraordinary 
obliged." 

"Well,  through  Bernadotte,"  said  the  lady,  whose  erudi- 
tion took  her  so  far  as  that,  "France  and  Sweden  clasped 
hands." 

"It  is  quite  certain,"  said  Vautrin^  "that  our  beloved 
sovereign  Charles  XIV. " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  butler,  who  threw  open  the  doors 
and  announced  dinner. 

Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  took  Vautrin's  arm,  and 
whispered  as  they  went: 

"Don't  you  think  it  all  very  well  done?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jacques  Collin,  "it  is  very  well  got  up.  Noth- 
ing is  wrong  but  your  diabolical  parrot-colored  turban,  which 
startled  me  a  good  deal." 

"No,  no,"  said  Jacqueline,  "with  my  Javanese  phiz"  (she 
was  born,  in  fact,  in  Java)  "something  Oriental  carries  it 
off." 

She  placed  Sir  Francis  Drake  to  her  right,  and  next  to  him 
Desroches;  Vautrin,  opposite  to  her  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table,  was  supported  by  fimile  Blondet  of  the  Debats  and 
Luigia,  next  to  whom  sat  Theodore  Gaillard ;  the  twenty-five 
thousand  subscribers  to  the  paper  edited  by  this  practised 
craftsman  well  earned  him  this  distinction.  The  other 
guests  seated  themselves  as  they  pleased. 

The  dinner  was  not,  on  the  whole,  particularly  lively.  The 
"Human  Comedy"  has  more  than  once  had  occasion  to  in- 
clude a  picture  of  the  cheerful  race  who  were  here  present 
in  force,  under  the  brilliant  light  of  the  triclinium;  but  then 
they  had  not  been  muzzled  as  they  were  at  this  banquet. 
Bixiou,  as  a  message  from  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve,  had 
particularly  impressed  on  all  the  guests  that  they  were  to 
say  nothing  that  could  distress  the  chaste  ears  of  the  pious 
Italian.  So  these  men,  forced  to  be  cautions,  all  men  of  wit 
and  feeling — more  or  less,  as  a  famous  critic  said,  had  lost 
their  spirit;  and  falling  back  on  the  dinner,  which  was  ex- 
cellent, they  murmured  in  undertones,  or  reduced  the  conver- 


430  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

sation  to  commonplace  remarks.  In  short,  they  ate  and  they 
drank  under  protest,  so  to  speak;  but  they  did  not  really 
dine. 

Bixiou,  to  whom  such  a  state  of  things  was  quite  unen- 
durable, was  bent  on  making  some  break  in  this  monotony. 
The  intimacy  between  a  foreign  nobleman  and  their  hostess 
had  given  him  food  for  thought;  he  had  also  been  struck 
by  a  certain  inefficiency  in  the  Amphitryon;  and  had  said  to 
himself  that  a  genuine  nobleman  would  at  a  smaller  cost 
have  succeeded  in  putting  some  life  into  the  party.  So,  in 
order  to  feel  his  way,  it  occurred  to  him  to  test  the  Count 
by  speaking  of  Sweden,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  second 
course  he  asked  him  all  across  the  table: 

"Monsieur  le  Comte,  you  are  too  young,  I  imagine,  to 
have  known  Gustavus  III.,  whom  Scribe  and  Auber  have  set 
in  an  opera,  and  who  in  France  has  given  his  glorious  name 
to  a  galop." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  replied  Vautrin,  seizing  the  oppor- 
tunity thus  offered  to  him;  "I  am  very  nearly  sixty,  which 
would  make  me  thirteen  in  1792,  when  our  beloved  sovereign 
was  killed  by  the  assassin  Anckastroem;  so  I  can  remember 
those  times." 

Having  said  this,  by  the  help  of  a  volume  called  Caracteres 
et  Anecdotes  de  la  cour  de  Suede  (published  by  Arthus 
Bertrand  in  1808  without  the  author's  name),  which  he  had 
picked  up  at  a  bookstall  since  his  incarnation  as  a  Swede, 
Vautrin  was  in  a  position  to  defy  pitfalls.  He  improved 
the  occasion;  like  a  speaker  who  only  waits  to  be  started  on 
a  familiar  text  to  display  his  powers  to  the  best  advantage, 
no  sooner  was  the  tap  turned  on  than  he  flowed  with  such 
erudition  and  pertinence  on  all  the  great  men  of  his  country, 
gave  so  many  circumstantial  details,  related  so  many  curious 
and  secret  facts,  especially  with  regard  to  the  famous  Coup 
d'Etat,  by  which  Gustavus  III.  emancipated  the  Crown  in 
1772 ;  in  short,  was  so  precise  and  so  interesting,  that  as  they 
rose  from  table,  Emile  Blondet  said  to  Bixiou: 

"I   was   like  you — a  foreign    Count,   introduced   by  this 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  431 

matchmonger,  at  first  struck  me  as  suspicious.  But  not  only 
was  the  dinner  really  princely;  this  man  knows  his  Swedish 
Court  in  a  way  that  is  not  to  be  got  out  of  books.  He  is 
undoubtedly  a  man  of  good  family;  and  if  only  I  had  time, 
I  could  make  a  very  interesting  pamphlet  out  of  all  he  has 
told  us." 

When  they  had  had  coffee,  Sir  Francis  Drake,  Vautrin, 
and  Desroehes  went  into  an  adjoining  room,  where  they 
talked  over  the  deed  of  partnership  and  the  engagement  of 
the  prima  donna.  All  the  terms  being  finally  settled, 
Vautrin  called  in  the  Diva  to  sign. 

"He  is  a  very  cunning  fox,"  said  Desroches  to  Bixiou  as 
they  came  back  to  the  drawing-room.  "He  must  be  enor- 
mously rich;  he  paid  the  Englishman  a  hundred  thousand 
crowns  down  in  banknotes  on  the  spot;  and  when  I  wanted 
to  insert  a  rather  stringent  clause  in  the  agreement  as  to 
the  payment  of  the  lady's  salary — for  Sir  Francis  Drake  has 
not  a  reputation  for  paying  on  the  tail,  as  Leon  de  Lora  would 
say — our  gentleman  would  allow  no  written  expression  of 
distrust — whence  I  conclude  that  the  fair  Italian  keeps  him 
at  arm's  length,  and  that  he  is  not  sorry  to  have  some  hold 
over  her  through  arrears  of  pay." 

"And  your  fees,"  said  Bixiou.  "Did  he  happen  to  mention 
them?  I  told  old  Saint-Esteve  that  she  must  not  expect  a 
man  of  your  consequence  to  put  himself  out  of  the  way  for 
soup  and  beef — that  they  must  be  garnished  with  parsley." 

"Here  you  are !"  said  Desroches,  taking  out  of  his  pocket 
a  gold  box,  oval  in  shape,  and  very  handsomely  chased.  "Just 
now,  while  I  was  reading  the  indentures,  I  had  laid  my  snuff- 
box of  Irish  horn — worth  about  ten  francs  perhaps — on  the 
table  by  my  side.  Our  friend  interrupted  me  to  ask  me  for 
a  pinch.  When  I  had  done  reading  and  wanted  it,  in  the 
place  of  my  box,  which  had  vanished,  I  found  this  gem." 

"Your  'uncle,' "  said  Bixiou,  "would  lend  you  three  or 
four  hundred  francs  on  it,  which  would  mean  a  value  of 
about  a  thousand." 

"As  I  protested  against  such  an  exchange,"  Desroches  went 


432  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

on,  "  'I  am  the  gainer  by  it/  says  he.     'I  have  a  relic  of  the 
Xapoleon  of  attorneys.' " 

"Mighty  genteel !"  said  Bixiou,  "and  please  God  and  the 
old  woman  I  will  cultivate  his  acquaintance. — I  say,  sup- 
posing I  were  to  sketch  him  in  an  early  number  of  the 
Charivari  ?" 

"First  we  must  find  out  whether  he  has  enough  French 
wit  in  him  to  be  pleased  to  see  himself  caricatured." 

At  this  moment  a  chord  on  the  piano  announced  that  the 
Signora  Luigia  was  about  to  face  the  enemy.  She  sang  the 
"Willow  Song"  with  a  depth  of  expression  which  touched  her 
audience,  though  the  trial  was  held  by  an  areopagus  who 
was  digesting  a  dinner  of  no  sparing  character.  Smile 
Blondet,  a  dogmatic  politician  rather  than  a  man  of  imagina- 
tion, was  surprised  into  beating  time  in  the  fervor  of  his 
enthusiasm.  He  beat  out  of  time,  it  is  true,  but  the  emotion 
was  not  the  less  evident. 

The  song  ended,  Vernou  and  Lousteau,  going  up  to  Sir 
Francis  Drake,  said,  with  an  assumption  of  indignation  as 
flattering  to  his  skill  as  to  his  hopes  as  a  manager: 

"What  a  mean  wretch  you  must.be  to  have  secured  such 
an  artist  for  fifty  thousand  francs — a  mere  song !" 

Luigia  then  sang  an  air  from  Nina,  by  Paesiello,  and  in 
this  light  and  vivacious  character  revealed  a  gift  of  imper- 
sonation at  least  equal  to  her  talents  as  a  singer. 

"She  startled  me !"  said  the  old  aunt  to  Vautrin.  "I 
fancied  I  saw  Peyrade's  daughter." 

This  was  an  allusion  to  a  dreadful  incident  connected  with 
Baron  Nucingen's  story,  in  which  this  formidable  foe  had 
played  the  chief  part.  She  had  driven  an  unhappy  girl  out 
of  her  mind  by  getting  her  into  a  house  of  ill-fame,  in  pursu- 
ance of  an  atrocious  scheme  of  vengeance. 

What  crowned  Luigia's  success,  and  recommended  her  es- 
pecially to  her  reporters,  was  her  modesty — a  sort  of  igno- 
rance of  her  wonderful  gifts  in  the  midst  of  the  praises  that 
were  showered  on  her.  This  little  crowd  of  journalists,  ac- 
customed to  the  extravagant  vanity  and  insolent  assumption 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  43o 

of  the  smallest  stage  queens,  could  not  get  over  the  humility 
and  artlessness  of  this  Empress  of  Song,  who  seemed  quite 
surprised  at  the  effect  she  had  produced. 

A  few  words  skilfully  whispered  at  parting  to  each  of  these 
great  men,  and  a  card  left  at  their  lodgings  next  day  by 
Count  Halphertius,  secured  for  his  protegee,  at  any  rate  for 
the  moment,  a  chorus  of  admiration  which  would  echo  across 
the  Channel,  and  be  almost  as  good  as  a  brilliant  debut  at 
the  Italian  opera  house  in  Paris. 

The  signora's  departure  was  fixed  for  the  morrow;  she 
was  to  travel,  escorted  by  Sir  Francis  Drake.  To  avoid  a 
tete-a-tete,  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve  had  taken  the  precaution 
of  engaging  a  maid,  and,  against  her  practice  when  she 
meddled  with  servants,  she  took  care  to  secure  an  honest 
woman. 

Count  Halphertius  gave  proof  of  his  disinterestedness  in 
a  way  that  was  thoroughly  appreciated.  He  said,  which  was 
perfectly  true,  that  business  detained  him  in  Paris,  reserv- 
ing the  right,  if  IIP  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to  bring  it  to 
a  conclusion  in  about  a  month  or  six  weeks,  to  run  over  to 
London  and  enjoy  the  triumph,  of  which  he  no  longer  felt 
a  doubt,  and  which  he  was  so  happy  as  to  have  been  able  to 
prepare. 

Some  days  before  Luigia's  journey,  the  Boulogne  boat 
carried  another  person  of  this  drama  to  England. 

As  soon  as  he  had  ascertained  where  he  could  find  Salle- 
nauve,  to  give  him  the  information  he  thought  so  urgent, 
Jacques  Bricheteau  abandoned  the  idea  of  writing  to  him. 
He  thought  it  simpler  and  safer  to  go  to  see  him. 

On  reaching  London,  the  traveler  was  somewhat  surprised 
to  learn  that  Hanwell  was  one  of  the  most  famous  lunatic 
asylums  in  the  three  kingdoms.  If  he  had  but  remembered 
the  apprehensions  his  friend  had  felt  at  the  state  of  Marie- 
Gaston's  brain,  he  would  have  guessed  the  truth ;  but  he  was 
quite  at  sea  when  he  was  further  informed  that  this  asylum, 
maintained  by  the  rates,  was  open  only  to  mad  people  of 


434  .  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

the  lower  classes,  and  not  to  paying  patients.  However, 
Jacques  Bricheteau  was  not  so  foolish  as  to  waste  time  in 
vain  conjectures.  We  have  already  seen  that  he  was  prompt 
and  determined;  and  he  now  set  off  without  delay  to  Han- 
well,  and  as  the  place  is  only  about  nine  miles  from  London, 
he  was  soon  there. 

Hanwell  is  a  large  building  of  not  unhandsome  appearance ; 
the  front,  nine  hundred  and  ninety-six  feet  in  length,  is 
broken  by  three  octagonal  towers,  three  stories  high — one  at 
each  end,  and  one  in  the  middle;  the  monotony  is  thus  re- 
lieved, though  the  melancholy  purpose  of  the  building  ne- 
cessitated a  very  moderate  use  of  ornament. 

The  asylum  is  pleasantly  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  hill  on 
the  borders  of  Jersey  (sic)*  and  Middlesex.  The  extensive, 
grounds,  gardens,  and  farms  lie  between  the  Uxbridge  road, 
the  river  Brent,  and  the  Grand  Junction  Canal ;  nine  hundred 
patients  can  be  accommodated  and  treated  there.  As  it  is 
well  known  that  manual  labor  is  one  of  the  most  valuable 
elements  of  the  cure,  the  house  contains  workshops  for  car- 
pentry, smiths'  work,  painting,  glazing,  and  brushmaking; 
cotton  is  spun,  shoes,  baskets,  strawberry  pottles,  and  straw 
hats  are  made,  and  other  light  work  for  women.  The  finer 
qualities  of  work  are  sold  to  visitors  in  a  bazaar,  and  bring 
in  a  considerable  profit. 

Such  patients  as  are  incapable  of  learning  a  trade  work 
in  the  garden  and  farm,  which  supply  many  of  the  wants  of 
the  establishment ;  bread  and  beer  are  made  on  the  premises ; 
all  the  necessary  linen  is  made  up  and  washed  by  means  of 
a  steam  engine,  which  also  heats  every  part  of  the  building. 
A  chapel  with  a  fine  organ,  a  library,  and  a  concert-room — 
the  salutary  effect  of  music  on  the  patients  being  amply  proved 
— show  that,  hand  in  hand  with  intelligent  care  given  to 
physical  suffering,  thfe  needs  of  the  spiritual  and  intellectual 
man  are  not  neglected. 

Finally,  as  Lord  Lewin  had  told  Sallenauve  in  his  letter, 
the  superintendent  and  director,  was  Dr.  Ellis,  a  distinguished 

*  This  curious  mistake  seems  to  have  arisen  from  the  proximity  of  Osterley  Park, 
Lord  Jersey's  residence. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  435 

physician  to  whom  we  owe  a  valuable  treatise  on  the  develop- 
ment and  therapeutics  of  mental  disease.  In  his  treatment 
of  these  maladies  this  learned  man  does  not  despise  the  aid 
of  phrenology. 

On  being  shown  into  the  doctor's  room,  the  organist  asked 
him  whether  a  Frenchman  named  Sallenauve  were  not  stay- 
ing for  a  time  at  Hanwell.  Here,  again,  Bricheteau  paid 
the  penalty  of  his  neglected  and  shabby  appearance;  without 
vouchsafing  any  inquiries  or  explanations,  Dr.  Ellis  shortly 
replied  that  he  had  never  even  heard  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's 
name.  This,  after  all,  was  very  probable ;  so  Jacques  Briche- 
teau withdrew,  much  disappointed;  and  fancying  that  Ma- 
dame de  1'Estorade  had  misread,  or  he  himself  had  mistaken, 
the  name  of  Hanwell,  he  spent  some  days  in  running  about 
the  county  of  Middlesex  visiting  every  spot  of  which  the  name 
ending  in  ell  invited  his  attention. 

All  his  inquiries  having  ended  in  nothing,  as  he  rarely 
allowed  his  persevering  and  resourceful  spirit  to  be  beaten  in 
anything  he  undertook,  Jacques  Bricheteau  resolved  to  make 
another  attempt  on  Hanwell  by  letter,  thinking,  very  rightly, 
that  a  letter  sometimes  got  in  where  a  man  was  barred  out. 
In  point  of  fact,  on  the  evening  of  the  day  when  he  posted 
his  letter  he  received  a  reply  from  Sallenauve,  inviting  him 
to  call  at  the  asylum,  where  he  was  promised  a  cordial  wel- 
come. 

Dr.  Ellis'  conduct  was  accounted  for  when  Jacques  Briche- 
teau learned  the  extent  of  the  disaster  that  had  befallen  Marie- 
Gaston.  Discretion  is,  of  course,  one  of  the  most  indis- 
pensable virtues  in  the  Head  of  an  asylum  for  the  insane; 
since  every  day,  by  his  position,  he  becomes  the  depositary 
of  secrets  which  affect  the  honor  of  whole  families.  To  ad- 
mit that  the  nearest  friend  of  Marie-Gaston — whose  deep 
melancholy  was  known  to  all — was  then  staying  at  Hanwell, 
would  have  been  to  put  the  inquirer,  whoever  he  might  be, 
in  possession  of  the  fact  of  his  insanity,  and  thus  the  secret 
they  had  agreed  to  keep  as  to  his  state,  which  they  still  liked 
to  believe  would  be-  temporary  and  curable,  would  have  in- 
evitably become  known. 


436  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

When  Bricheteau  arrived  at  the  asylum,  and  was  intro- 
duced by  Sallenauve  as  his  friend,  he  was  heartily  welcomed. 
Dr.  Ellis  made  every  apology;  and  having  on  various  oc- 
casions in  the  course  of  his  practice  found  really  wonderful 
benefit  derived  from  music,  he  said  that  he  regarded  the 
organist's  arrival  as  quite  a  godsend,  since  his  great  talent 
might  be  of  immense  use  as  a  means  towards  curing  the 
patient. 

Since  leaving  Yille-d'Avra}',  Marie-Gaston's  state  had  un- 
fortunately become  seriously  complicated.  Until  he  reached 
England  be  had  been  comparatively  cheerful  and  docile  to 
Lord  Lewin's  advice;  they  might  have  been  supposed  to  be 
friends  traveling  together  for  pleasure.  But  when,  instead  of 
embarking  at  once  for  South  America,  Lord  Lewin,  under  the 
pretext  of  business  to  transact  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lon- 
don, proposed  to  Marie-Gaston  to  accompany  him,  the  mad- 
man began  to  suspect  some  snare  into  which  he  had  been 
wheedled.  He  allowed  himself,  nevertheless,  to  be  driven  to 
Hanwell,  represented  by  Lord  Lewiri  as  one  of  the  royal  resi- 
dences; he  had  not  even  resisted  when  invited  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  his  prison;  but  once  in  the  presence  of  Dr.  Ellis, 
who  had  been  forewarned  by  a  letter  from  Lord  Lewin,  a 
sort  of  instinct,  of  which  the  insane  are  very  capable,  seemed 
to  tell  the  unhappy  man  that  his  freedom  was  in  danger. 

"I  do  not  like  that  man's  face,"  he  said  aloud  to  Lord 
Lewin.  "Let  us  go." 

The  doctor  had  tried  to  laugh  off  the  remark;  but  Marie- 
Gaston,  getting  more  and  more  excited,  exclaimed: 

"Hold  your  tongue!  Your  laughter  is  intolerable.  You 
look  just  like  an  executioner." 

And  it  is  possible  that  the  deep  attention  with  which  mad 
doctors  must  study  the  countenance  of  a  patient,  added  to 
the  stern  fixed  gaze  by  which  they  are  often  compelled  to 
control  a  maniac,  may  at  last  give  their  features  an  expression 
of  inquisitorial  scrutiny.  This,  no  doubt,  has  a  highly 
irritating  effect  on  the  overstrung  nervous  sensibilities  of 
the  unhappy  creatures  brought  within  their  ken. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  437 

"You  will  not  deprive  me,  I  hope,"  said  the  doctor,  "of 
the  pleasure  of  keeping  you  and  my  friend  Lord  Lewin  to 
dinner  ?" 

"I !  Dine  with  you  ?"  cried  Marie-Gaston  vehemently. 
"What — that  you  may  poison  me !" 

"Well,  but  poison  is  just  what  you  want,  surely?"  said 
Lord  Lewin  quickly.  "Were  you  not  talking  the  other  day 
of  a  dose  of  prussic  acid?" 

Lord  Lewin  was  not,  as  might  perhaps  be  supposed,  merely 
rash  in  making  this  pointed  speech ;  he  had  studied  mad  per- 
sons, and  he  discerned  that  a  deeply  hostile  aversion  for  the 
doctor  was  seething  in  Marie-Gaston's  mind ;  so,  being  strong 
and  active,  he  intended  to  divert  on  himself  the  storm  that 
was  about  to  burst.  It  fell  out  as  he  had  expected. 

"Vile  scoundrel !"  cried  Marie-Gaston,  seizing  him  by  the 
throat,  "you  are  in  collusion  with  the  other,  and  selling  my 
secrets !" 

It  was  with  some  difficulty,  and  the  help  of  two  warders; 
that  Lord  Lewin  had  shaken  off  his  desperate  clutch;  the 
poor  man  had  developed  raving  mania. 

The  paroxysm,  after  lasting  some  days,  had  yielded  to  care 
and  treatment;  the  patient  was  now  gentle  and  quiet,  and 
showed  some  hopeful  symptoms;  but  Sir  William  Ellis  hoped 
to  induce  a  final  crisis,  and  he  was  considering  the  way  and 
means  to  this  end  when  Jacques  Bricheteau  arrived. 

As  soon  as  Sallenauve  found  himself  alone  with  the  organ- 
ist, he  questioned  him  as  to  the  motives  -that  had  prompted  him 
to  follow  him,  and  it  was  not  without  indignation  that  he 
heard  of  the  intrigue  which  Maxime  and  the  Beauvisages 
seemed  to  be  plotting  against  him.  His  old.  suspicions  re- 
vived : 

"Are  you  quite  certain,"  he  asked,  "that  the  man  I  but 
just  saw  was  in  fact  the  Marquis  de  Sallenauve?" 

"Mother  Marie  des  Anges  and  Achille  Pigoult,"  replied 
Bricheteau,  "who  warned  me  of  this  plot,  have  no  more  doubt 
of  the  Marquis'  identity  than  I  have.  And  in  all  the  gossip 
which  they  are  trying  to  work  up  into  a  scandal,  one  thing 


438  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCI8 

alone  seems  to  me  at  all  serious,  and  that  is,  that  by  your 
absence  you  leave  the  field  free  to  your  enemies." 

"But  the  Chamber  will  not  condemn  me  unheard,""  replied 
the  member.  "I  wrote  to  the  President  to  ask  leave  of 
absence;  and  in  the  event  of  its  being  refused,  which  is  most 
improbable,  I  have  asked  1'Estorade,  who  knows  my  reasons 
for  being  here,  to  answer  for  me." 

"You  also  wrote  to  madame  his  wife?" 

"I  wrote  only  to  his  wife,"  replied  Sallenauve.  "I  an- 
nounced to  her  the  misfortune  that  has  overtaken  our  friend, 
and  at  the  same  time  begged  her  to  explain  to  her  husband 
the  good  offices  I  requested  of  him." 

"If  that  is  the  case,"  said  Jacques  Bricheteau,  "do  not  de- 
pend for  anything  on  the  1'Estorades.  A  rumor  of  the 
blow  about  to  be  dealt  you  had  no  doubt  already  reached 
them." 

And  after  telling  him  of  the  reception  he  had  met  with, 
as  well  as  the  unkind  speeches  made  by  Madame  de  1'Esto- 
rade,  Jacques  Bricheteau  drew  the  conclusion  that  in  the 
impending  struggle  no  help  could  be  hoped  for  from  that 
quarter. 

"I  have  some  right  to  be  surprised  at  such  a  state  of 
things,"  said  Sallenauve,  "after  Madame  de  1'Estorade's 
pressing  assurances  of  unfailing  goodwill ;  however,"  he  added 
with  a  shrug,  "nothing  is  impossible,  and  calumny  has  ere 
now  undermined  closer  friendship." 

"So  now,  as  you  must  understand."  said  the  organist,  "we 
must  set  out  for  Paris  without  delay:  all  things  considered, 
your  presence  here  is  really  far  less  necessary." 

"On  the  contrary,"  replied  Sallenauve,  "only  this  morning 
the  doctor  was  congratulating  himself  on  my  having  decided 
on  coming,  saying  that  at  the  right  moment  my  intervention 
might  be  invaluable.  In  fact,  I  have  not  yet  been  allowed 
to  see  Marie-Gaston,  reserving  my  appearance  as  a  surprise 
at  need." 

"The  usefulness  of  your  presence,"  replied  Jacques  Briche- 
teau, "is  nevertheless  problematical ;  while,  by  remaining  here 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  439 

for  an  indefinite  period,  you  are  most  certainly  imperiling 
your  political  future,  your  social  position,  everything  of 
which  the  most  ardent  friendship  has  no  right  to  demand 
the  sacrifice." 

"We  will  go  and  talk  it  over  with  the  doctor,"  said  Salle- 
nauve  at  length,  for  he  could  not  fail  to  see  that  Jacques 
Bricheteau's  importunity  was  justified. 

On  being  asked  whether  Marie-Gaston's  stay  in  the  asylum 
was  liable  to  be  prolonged: 

"Yes,  I  think  so,;;  said  the  doctor;  "I  have  just  seen  our 
patient,  and  the  cerebral  irritation,  which  must  give  way  to 
the  material  action  of  medicines  before  we  can  attempt  to 
bring  any  moral  influence  to  bear,  seems  to  me  most  un- 
fortunately on  the  highway  to  a  fresh  outbreak." 

"Still,"  said  Sallenauve  anxiously,  "you  have  not  lost  all 
hope  of  a  cure?" 

"Far  from  it;  I  believe  firmly  in  a  favorable  termination. 
But  these  dreadful  disorders  often  present  frequent  alterna- 
tions of  aggravation  and  improvement;  and  I  am  beginning 
to  foresee  that  the  case  will  be  a  longer  one  than  I  had  at 
first  hoped." 

"I  have  but  just  been  elected  a  member  of  the  Lower 
Chamber,"  said  Sallenauve,  "and  the  opening  of  the  session 
demands  my  return  to  Paris.  It  is  no  less  required  by  urgent 
private  matters  which  Monsieur  Bricheteau  came  expressly 
to  discuss.  So  unless  I  thought  that  my  presence  here  would 
be  immediately  needed " 

"Go>"  said  the  doctor;  "it  may  be  a  very  long  business. 
If  the  patient's  condition  had  not  shown  a  relapse,  I  had  in- 
tended to  arrange  some  startling  scene  with  your  help  and 
that  of  Monsieur  Bricheteau's  music,  aided  too  by  a  young 
lady,  a  relation  of  my  wife's,  who  on  various  occasions  has 
seconded  me  very  intelligently — a  little  dramatic  shock  from 
which  I  hoped  for  good  results.  But,  in  the  first  place,  my 
young  relation  is  absent,  and  for  the  moment  nothing  can 
be  done  but  by  medical  agents.  So,  for  the  moment,  go ! 
The  patient  is  a  man  in  whom  it  is  impossible  not  to  take  a 


440  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

great  interest;  you  may  leave  him  in  perfect  confidence  to 
me  and  Lord  Lewin.  I  will  even  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  I 
shall  pride  myself  on  achieving  the  cure,  and  I  know  no  better 
warrant  to  offer  you  than  this  from  a  doctor's  lips." 

Sallenauve  gratefully  pressed  the  doctor's  hand,  seeing  his 
eager  wish  to  reassure  him.  He  then  took  leave  of  Mrs. 
Ellis,  who  promised  no  less  warmly  than  her  husband  the 
devoted  care  of  a  mother's  watchfulness.  As  to  Lord  Lewin, 
Sallenauve's  character  had  won  his  most  friendly  esteem, 
and  his  conduct  in  the  past  was  a  guarantee  for  all  that 
might  be  expected  of  him  now  and  in  the  future.  So  Briche- 
teau  had  no  difficulty  about  getting  off  without  any  further 
delay. 

They  reached  London  at  about  five  in  the  afternoon,  and 
would  have  gone  on  to  Paris  the  same  evening  but  for  a  sur- 
prise which  awaited  them.  Their  eyes  fell  immediately  on 
enormous  posters,  on  a  scale  which  only  English  "puff"  can 
achieve,  announcing  at  the  corner  of  every  street  the  appear- 
ance that  same  evening  of  SIGXORA  LUIGIA  at  Her  Majesty's 
Theatre.  The  name  alone  was  enough  to  arrest  the  travelers' 
attention;  but  the  papers  to  which  they  had  recourse  for  in- 
formation, supplied  them,  in  the  English  fashion,  with  so 
many  circumstantial  facts  as  to  the  debutant's  career,  that 
Sallenauve  could  not  doubt  the  transformation  of  his  late 
housekeeper  into  one  of  the  brightest  stars  that  had  risen  for 
a  long  time  above  the  horizon  of  England.  If  he  had  listened 
to  Jacques  Bricheteau,  he  would  have  been  content  to  hail 
from  afar  the  triumph  of  the  handsome  Italian,  and  have 
gone  on  his  way.  But  having  calculated  that  one  evening 
spent  in  London  would  make  no  serious  delay  in  his  arrival, 
Sallenauve  was  bent  on  judging  for  himself,  by  his  own  eyes 
and  ears,  what  the  enthusiasm  was  worth  which  was  ex- 
pressed on  all  sides  for  the  new  prima  donna. 

Sallenauve  went  off  at  once  to  the  box  office,  which  he 
found  closed,  but  he  was  enabled  to  perceive  that  the  singer's 
success  was  immense.  Every  seat  had  been  sold  by  two  in 
the  afternoon,  and  he  thought  himself  lucky  to  secure  two 
stalls  at  a  private  ticket  office  for  the  sum  of  five  pounds. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  441 

The  London  opera-house  had  never  perhaps  held  a  more 
brilliant  assembly ;  and  it  is  impossible  not  to  be  struck  by  the 
capricious  vicissitudes  of  human  life,  when  we  reflect  that  all 
this  concourse  of  the  English  aristocracy  was  brought  about 
originally  by  the  ambition  of  a  man  who  had  been  a  felon 
on  the  hulks,  to  rise,  as  a  member  of  the  police,  to  a  rather 
better  rank  in  its  hierarchy. 

By  a  no  less  singular  coincidence  the  piece  announced 
was  Paesiello's  Nina,  o  la  Pazza  per  Amore  (mad  for  love), 
from  which  Luigia  had  sung  an  air  after  the  dinner  given 
by  Madame  de  Saint-Esteve. 

When  the  curtain  rose,  Sallenauve,  having  spent  nearly 
a  week  at  Hanwell  in  the  midst  of  mad  people,  could  all  the 
better  appreciate  the  prodigious  gifts  as  an  actress  displayed 
by  his  former  housekeeper  in  the  part  of  Nina;  and  in  the 
face  of  her  heartrending  imitation,  he  went  through  a  re- 
newal of  all  the  distress  of  mind  he  had  just  gone  through 
while  watching  the  dreadful  reality  of  Marie-Gaston's  in- 
sanity. 

Bricheteau,  in  spite  of  his  annoyance  at  first  at  Salle- 
nauve's  dawdling,  as  he  called  it,  finally  fell  under  the  spell  of 
the  singer's  power ;  and  at  last,  seeing  the  whole  house  frantic 
with  enthusiasm,  and  the  stage  strewn  with  bouquets,  he 
said: 

"On  my  word,  I  can  wish  you  nothing  better  than  a  success 
in  any  degree  like  this  on  another  stage !"  and  then  he  rashly 
added,  "But  there  are  no  such  triumphs  in  politics!  Art 
alone  is  great " 

"And  la  Luigia  is  its  prophet!"  replied  Sallenauve,  smil- 
ing through  the  tears  that  admiration  had  brought  to  his 
eyes. 

On  coming  out  of  the  theatre,  Bricheteau  looked  at  his 
watch ;  it  was  a  quarter  to  eleven,  and  by  making  great  haste 
there  was  still  time  to  get  on  board  the  packet  starting  at 
eleven.  But  when  the  organist  looked  round  to  urge  this 
on  Sallenauve,  who  was  to  follow  him  through  the  crowd,  he 
no  longer  saw  his  man:  the  Depute  had  vanished. 


442  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Luigia's  dresser  came  into  a 
room  where  her  mistress  was  receiving  the  compliments  of 
the  greatest  names  in  England,  introduced  to  her  by  Sir 
Francis  Drake.  She  gave  the  signora  a  card.  The  prima 
donna  as  she  read  it  changed  color,  and  whispered  a  few  words 
to  the  maid.  And  she  then  showed  such  obvious  anxiety  to 
be  rid  of  her  throng  of  admirers,  that  some  budding  adorers 
could  not  help  betraying  their  surprise. 

However,  an  artist  who  is  the  rage  has  many  privileges; 
and  the  fatigue  of  a  part  into  which  the  Diva  had  thrown 
her  whole  soul  was  so  good  an  excuse  for  her  want  of 
cordiality,  that  her  court  dispersed  without  too  much  demur. 
Nay,  her  curtness,  regarded  as  a  whim,  was  taken  as  a  very 
original  proceeding,  and  recommended  her  to  some  incipent 
fancies. 

As  soon  as  she  was  alone,  she  hastily  resumed  her  ordinary 
dress;  the  manager's  carriage  had  soon  conveyed  her  to  the 
hotel  where  she  had  been  living  since  her  arrival;  and  on 
entering  her  sitting-room,  she  found  Sallenauve,  who  had 
got  there  before  her. 

"You  here,  monsieur !"  said  she.     "It  is  a  dream !" 

"Especially  to  me,"  replied  Sallenauve,  "since  I  find  you 
in  London  after  having  sought  you  in  vain  in  Paris." 

"You  took  so  much  trouble — but  why  ?" 

"You  left  us  in  so  strange  a  manner,  your  moods  are  so 
hasty,  you  knew  so  little  of  Paris,  and  so  many  dangers 
might  await  your  inexperience,  that  I  feared  everything  for 
you." 

"What  harm  could  come  to  me?"  said  she.  "And  I  was 
neither  your  wife,  nor  your  sister,  nor  your  mistress;  I  was 
only  your " 

"I  had  believed,"  Sallenauve  eagerly  put  in,  "that  you 
were  my  friend." 

"I  was  your  debtor,"  said  Luigia.  "I  saw  that  I  was  a 
trouble  to  you  in  your  new  position.  Could  I  do  otherwise 
than  relieve  you  of  my  presence?" 

"Pray,  who  had  impressed  you  with  that  intolerable  con- 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  443 

viction?  Had  I  said  or  hinted  anything  to  that  effect? 
Was  it  impossible  to  discuss  a  plan  of  life  for  you  without 
so  far  offending  your  susceptibilities?" 

"I  feel  what  I  feel,"  said  the  Italian.  "I  myself  was 
conscious  that  you  wished  me  anywhere  rather  than  in  your 
house.  You  had  afforded  me  the  means  of  having  no  fears 
for  the  future ;  indeed,  as  you  see,  it  promises  to  be  anything 
rather  than  alarming." 

"On  the  contrary,  it  promises  to  be  so  brilliant  that  but 
for  the  fear  of  seeming  too  presuming,  I  should  ma>e  so 
bold  to  ask  from  whose  hand,  happier  than  mine,  you  have 
obtained  such  prompt  and  efficient  help." 

"A  great  Swedish  nobleman,"  replied  Luigia  without  hesita- 
tion, "who  spends  part  of  an  immense  fortune  in  the  en- 
couragement of  art,  procured  me  this  engagement  at  Her 
Majesty's ;  the  kind  indulgence  of  the  public  did  the  rest." 

"Your  talent,  you  should  say.     I  heard  you  this  evening." 

"And  were  you  pleased  with  your  humble  servant?"  said 
the  singer,  with  a  coquettish  courtesy. 

"Your  musical  achievements  did  not  surprise  me;  I  knew 
your  gifts  already,  and  an  infallible  judge  had  answered 
for  them;  but  your  flights  of  dramatic  passion,  your  acting, 
at  once  so  strong  and  so  sure  of  itself — that  indeed  amazed 
me." 

"I  have  suffered  much,"  said  the  Italian,  "and  grief  is  a 
great  master." 

"Suffered !"  said  Sallenauve ;  "in  Italy,  yes.  But  since 
you  came  to  France,  I  like  to  flatter  myself " 

"Everywhere,"  said  Luigia  in  a  broken  voice.  "I  was  not 
born  under  a  happy  star." 

"That  'Everywhere'  has  to  me  a  touch  of  reproach.  It  is 
late,  indeed,  to  be  telling  me  of  any  wrong  I  may  have  done 
you." 

"You  have  not  done  me  the  smallest  wrong.  The  mischief 
was  there!"  said  Luigia,  laying  her  hand  on  her  heart.  "I 
alone  was  in  fault." 

"From  some  fancy,  I  dare  say,  as  foolish  as  your  notion 


444  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

that  it  was  a  point  of  honor  that  you  should  quit  my  house  ?" 

"Oh,  I  was  not  dreaming  then,"  said  the  Italian.  "How 
well  I  knew  what  lay  at  the  bottom  of  your  mind !  If  it 
were  only  in  return  for  all  you  had  done  for  me,  I  ought 
to  long  for  your  esteem,  and  yet  I  was  forbidden  even  to 
aspire  to  it." 

"But,  my  dear  Luigia,  there  is  no  word  for  such  ideas. 
Did  I  ever  fail  in  consideration  and  respect?  And  besides, 
has  not  your  conduct  always  been  exemplary?" 

"Yes.  I  have  tried  never  to  do  anything  that  could 
make  you  think  ill  of  me.  But  I  was  Benedetto's  widow,  all 
the  same." 

"What !  Do  you  fancy  that  that  disaster,  the  outcome  of 
just  revenge " 

"Nay.  It  was  not  the  man's  death  that  could  lower  me 
in  your  e}res;  quite  the  contrary.  But  I  had  been  the  wife 
of  a  buffoon,  of  a  police  spy,  of  a  wretch  always  ready  to  sell 
me  to  any  buyer " 

"While  you  were  in  that  position,  I  felt  that  you  were  to 
be  pitied ;  but  scorned  ?  Never !" 

"Well,"  said  the  Italian,  "we  had  lived  together,  alone, 
under  the  same  roof,  for  nearly  two  }rears." 

"Certainly;  and  to  me  it  had  become  a  delightful  habit." 

"Did  you  think  me  ugly?" 

"You  know  I  did  not,  since  I  took  you  for  the  model  of 
my  best  statue." 

"A  fool?" 

"A  woman  cannot  be  a  fool  who  puts  so  much  soul  into 
a  part." 

"Well  then;  it  is  evident  that  you  despised  me!" 

Sallenauve  was  utterly  amazed  at  this  prompt  logic;  he 
thought  himself  clever  to  reply: 

"It  seems  to  me  that  if  I  had  behaved  differently,  I  should 
have  given  greater  proof  of  contempt." 

But  he  had  to  deal  with  a  woman  who  in  all  things — in 
her  friendships  and  aversions,  in  act  as  well  as  in  word — went 
straight  to  the  mark. 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARGIS  445 

She  went  on  as  if  she  were  afraid  that  he  had  not  under- 
stood her. 

"At  this  day,  monsieur,  I  can  say  everything,  for  I  am 
talking  of  the  past,  and  the  future  is  no  longer  in  my  hands. 
Since  the  day  when  you  were  kind  to  me,  and  when  by  your 
generous  protection  I  was  rescued  from  an  outrageous  insult, 
my  heart  has  been  wholly  yours." 

Sallenauve,  who  had  never  suspected  the  existence  of  this 
feeling,  and  who,  above  all,  could  not  conceive  of  its  avowal, 
made  with  such  artless  crudity,  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

"I  was  well  aware,"  the  strange  creature  went  on,  "that 
I  should  have  much  to  do  to  raise  myself  from  the  base  con- 
dition in  which  you  had  seen  me  at  our  first  meeting.  If 
even  at  the  moment  when  you  consented  to  take  me  with  you 
I  had  seen  any  signs  of  gallantry  in  your  behavior,  any  hint 
that  you  might  take  advantage  of  the  dangerous  position  in 
which  I  had  placed  myself  by  my  own  act,  my  heart  would 
have  shrunk  into  itself,  you  would  have  been  but  an  ordinary 
man,  and  to  rehabilitate  me  after  Benedetto  it  was  not 
enough " 

"And  so,"  said  Sallenauve,  "to  love  you  would  have  been 
an  insult,  and  not  to  love  was  cruelty.  What  a  woman! 
flow  is  it  possible  to  avoid  offending  you?" 

"I  did  not  want  you  to  love  me  when  you  did  not  know 
me,"  said  the  singer,  "when  I  had  scarcely  shaken  off  the  mire, 
for  then  it  would  have  been  only  the  love  of  the  eye  and  of 
the  taste,  which  it  is  never  wise  to  trust.  But  when,  after 
living  in  your  house  for  two  years,  you  could  know  by  my 
conduct  that  I  was  worthy  of  your  esteem ;  when,  without  ever 
craving  a  single  pleasure,  and  devoted  to  the  care  of  your 
house,  with  no  relaxation  but  the  study  which  was  to  raise 
me  to  the  dignity  of  an  artist  like  yourself,  I  could,  merely 
for  the  happiness  of  seeing  you  create  a  masterpiece,  sacrifice 
the  womanly  modesty  which  on  another  occasion  you  had  seen 
me  defend  with  vehemence — then  you  were  cruel  not  to 
understand ;  and  your  imagination  can  never;  never  picture 
what  I  have  suffered,  or  how  many  tears  I  have  shed !" 


446  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"But,  my  dear  Luigia,  you  were  my  guest ;  even  if  I  could 
have  suspected  what  you  now  reveal  to  me,  my  duty  as  a  man 
of  honor  required  me  to  see  nothing,  understand  nothing, 
but  on  the  plainest  evidence." 

"And  was  not  my  perpetual  melancholy  proof  enough? 
If  my  heart  had  been  free,  should  I  not  have  been  less  re- 
served and  more  familiar?  No — the  case  is  plain  enough: 
you  could  see  nothing;  your  fancy  was  fixed  elsewhere." 

"Well,  and  if  it  were?" 

"It  ought  not  to  have  been,"  said  the  Italian  stringently. 
"That  woman  was  not  free ;  she  had  a  husband  and  children ; 
and,  though  you  chose  to  make  a  saint  of  her,  even  if  I  had 
no  advantage  over  her  excepting  in  youth — though  that 
is,  of  course,  quite  absurd — it  seems  to  me  that  she  was  not 
to  compare  with  me." 

Sallenauve  could  not  help  smiling.  However,  he  replied 
quite  gravely: 

"You  are  altogether  mistaken  as  to  your  rival.  Madame 
de  1'Estorade  has  never  been  anything  to  me  but  a  head  to 
study,  and  even  so,  of  no  interest  whatever  but  for  her  like- 
ness to  another  woman.  That  woman  I  knew  at  Rome  before 
I  ever  saw  you.  She  had  beauty,  youth,  and  a  great  talent 
for  Art.  At  this  day  she  is  captive  in  a  convent;  so,  like 
you,  she  has  paid  tribute  to  sorrow;  as  you  see,  all  your 
perfection  s " 

"What !  Three  love  stories,  and  all  ending  in  air !"  said 
Luigia.  "You  were  born  under  a  strange  star  indeed!  Of 
course  when  I  was  so  misunderstood,  it  was  only  because  I 
was  under  its  maleficent  influence,  and  in  that  case  you  must 
be  forgiven." 

"Then,  since  you  admit  me  to  mercy,  pray  allow  me  to 
return  to  my  former  question.  The  future,  you  tell  me,  is 
no  longer  in  your  hands;  the  astounding  frankness  of  your 
avowals  leads  me  to  infer  that,  to  give  you  such  boldness,  a 
very  solid  barrier  must  have  been  raised  between  you  and  me. 
Then  what  is  the  power  by  which,  at  one  leap,  you  have  sprung 
go  high  ?  Have  you  made  a  bargain  with  the  devil  ?" 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  447 

"Perhaps  b'o,"  said  Luigia,  laughing. 

"Do  not  laugh/'  said  Sallenauve.  "You  chose  to  face  the 
hell  of  Paris  alone;  it  would  not  at  all  surprise  me  to  hear 
that  you  met  with  some  dangerous  acquaintance  at  starting.. 
I  know  the  difficulties  that  the  greatest  artists  have  to  sur- 
mount before  they  can  get  a  hearing.  Do  you  know  who 
the  foreign  gentleman  is  who  has  leveled  every  road  before 
you?" 

"I  know  that  he  has  put  down  a  fabulous  sum  to  secure 
my  engagement;  that  I  am  to  be  paid  fifty  thousand  francs; 
and  that  he  did  not  even  accompany  me  to  London." 

"Then  all  this  devotion  is  free,  gratis?" 

"Not  at  all.  My  patron  has  reached  the  age  at  which  a 
man  no  longer  loves,  but  has  a  great  deal  of  conceit.  So 
his  protection  is  to  be  widely  proclaimed,  and  I  have  pledged 
myself  to  do  nothing,  say  nothing,  that  may  give  the  lie  to 
his  fictitious  happiness.  To  you  alone  did  I  owe  the  truth; 
but  I  know  you  to  be  trustworthy,  and  I  entreat  you  to  keep 
it  absolutely  secret." 

"And  it  does  not  seem  improbable  to  you  that  this  state 
of  things  should  last? — But  how  and  where  did  you  make 
acquaintance  with  this  man  whom  you  think  you  can  for  ever 
feed  on  air?" 

"Through  a  Dame  de  Charite  who  came  to  see  me  while 
you  were  away.  She  had  been  struck  by  my  voice  at  Saint- 
Sulpice  during  the  services  of  the  month  of  Mary,  and  she 
wanted  to  bribe  me  away  to  sing  at  her  parish  church,  Notre- 
Dame  de  Lorette." 

"What  was  the  lady's  name?" 

"Madame  de  Saint-Esteve." 

Though  he  did  not  know  all  the  depths  of  Jacqueline 
Collin's  existence,  Sallenauve  had  heard  of  Madame  de 
Saint-Esteve  as  a  money-lender  and  go-between ;  he  had  heard 
Bixiou  speak  of  her. 

"That  woman,"  said  he,  "has  a  notoriously  bad  reputation 
in  Paris.  She  is  an  agent  of  the  lowest  intrigues." 

"So  I  suspected,"  said  Luigia,  "but  what  does  that  matter 
tome?" 


448  THE  MEMBER  FOB  ARCIS 

"If  the  man  she  has  introduced  to  you — 

"Were  such  another  as  herself?"  interrupted  the  singei. 
"But  that  is  not  likely.  The  hundred  thousand  crowns  he 
has  placed  in  the  manager's  hands  have  floated  the  theatre 
again." 

"He  may  be  rich  and  yet  be  scheming  against  you.  The 
two  are  not  incompatible." 

"He  may  have  schemes  against  me,"  said  Luigia,  "but  they 
will  not  be  carried  out.  Between  them  and  me — I  stand." 

"But  your  reputation  ?" 

"That  I  lost  when  I  left  your  house.  I  was  generally  sup- 
posed to  be  your  mistress;  you  had  to  give  your  own  expla- 
nation to  your  constituency ;  and  you  contradicted  the  report, 
but  do  you  imagine  that  you  killed  it?" 

"And  my  esteem,  on  which  you  set  such  value?" 

"I  no  longer  need  it.  You  did  not  love  me  when  I  wanted 
it ;  you  will  not  love  me  when  I  no  longer  care." 

"Who  can  tell?"  said  Sallenauve. 

"There  are  two  reasons  against  it,"  replied  the  Italian. 
"In  the  first  place,  it  is  too  late;  and  in  the  second,  we  no 
longer  tread  the  same  road." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  am  an  artist,  you  have  ceased  to  be  one.  I  am  rising, 
you  are  going  down." 

"You  call  it  going  down  to  rise  perhaps  to  the  highest 
dignities  of  State?" 

"Whether  you  rise  or  "no,"  cried  Luigia  ecstatically,  "you 
will  be  beneath  your  past  self  and  the  splendid  future  that 
lay  before  you.  Indeed,  I  believe  I  have  deceived  you;  I 
believe  if  you  had  still  been  a  sculptor,  I  should  yet  for 
some  time  have  endured  your  coldness  and  disdain;  at  any 
rate,  I  should  have  waited  till  after  my  first  trials  in  my  art, 
hoping  that  the  halo  which  lends  glory  to  a  woman  on  the 
stage  might  at  last  perhaps  have  made  you  aware  of  my 
existence — there — at  your  side.  But  from  the  day  of  your 
apostasy,  I  could  no  longer  persist  in  my  humiliating  sacri- 
fice. There  is  no  future  in  common  for  us." 


THE    MEMBER    FOR    ARCIS  449 

"What !"  said  Sallenauve,  holding  out  his  hand,  which 
Luigia  did  not  take,  "are  we  not  even  to  remain  friends  ?" 

"A  friend — a  man  friend — you  have  already.  No,  it  is  all 
over  and  done  with.  We  shall  hear  of  each  other ;  and  from 
afar  as  we  cross  in  life  we  shall  wave  each  other  a  greeting, 
but  nothing  more." 

"And  this  is  how  all  is  to  end  between  you  and  me !"  said 
Sallenauve  sadly. 

The  singer  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  tears  sparkled 
in  her  eyes. 

"Listen,"  said  she,  in  a  sincere  and  resolute  tone,  "this 
much  is  possible.  I  have  loved  you,  and  after  you  no  man 
will  find  a  place  in  the  heart  you  scorned.  You  will  be  told 
that  I  have  lovers:  the  old  man  whom  I  am  pledged  to  own 
to,  and  others  after  him  perhaps ;  but  you  will  not  believe  it, 
remembering  the  woman  that  I  am.  And,  who  knows?  By 
and  by  your  life  may  be  swept  clear  of  the  other  affections 
which  barred  the  way  for  mine,  and  the  freedom,  the  eccen- 
tricity of  the  avowal  I  have  just  made  will  perhaps  remain 
stamped  on  your  memory — then  it  is  not  altogether  impossi- 
ble that  after  such  long  wandering  you  may  at  last  want  me. 
If  that  should  happen — if,  as  the  result  of  bitter  disappoint- 
ments, you  should  be  brought  back  to  the  belief  in  Art — well, 
then,  if  time  has  not  made  love  a  too  ridiculous  dream  for  us, 
remember  this  night. 

"Now  we  must  part,  for  it  is  late  for  a  tete-a-tete,  and  it  is 
the  semblance  of  fidelity  to  my  elderly  protector  that  I  am 
pledged  to  preserve." 

So  speaking,  she  took  up  a  candle  and  vanished  into  the 
adjoining  room,  leaving  Sallenauve  in  a  state  of  mind  that 
may  be  imagined  after  the  surprises  of  every  kind  that  this 
interview  had  brought  him. 

On  returning  to  the  hotel  whither  he  had  taken  his  things 
on  arriving  from  Han  well,  he  found  Bricheteau  waiting  for 
him  at  the  door. 

"Where  the  devil  have  you  been  ?"  cried  the  organist,  frau- 


450  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

tic  witn  Impatience.  "We  might  have  got  off  by  to-night's 
boat." 

"Well,  well/'  said  Sallenauve  carelessly,  "I  shall  have  a 
few  more  hours  for  playing  truant." 

"And  meanwhile  the  enemy  is  pushing  forward  the  mine !" 

"What  do  I  care?  In  that  cave  called  political  life  must 
we  not  be  prepared  for  whatever  happens?" 

"I  suspected  as  much,"  said  Bricheteau.  "You  have  been 
to  see  la  Luigia;  her  success  has  turned  your  head,  and  the 
statuary  is  breaking  out  through  the  Member." 

"You  yourself  an  hour  since  said  Art  alone  is  great." 

"But  the  orator  too  is  an  artist,"  said  Bricheteau,  "and  the 
greatest  of  all;  for  other  artists  appeal  to  the  intellect  and 
the  feelings,  he  alone  addresses  the  conscience  and  the  will. 
Besides,  this  is  not  the  time  to  look  back;  you  have  a  duel  to 
fight  with  your  opponents.  Are  you  a  man  of  honor  or  a 
rogue  who  has  stolen  a  name  ?  That  is  the  question  which  is 
perhaps  being  discussed  and  answered  in  your  absence  in  the 
full  light  of  the  Chamber." 

"I  am  sadly  afraid  that  you  have  misled  me;  I  had  a  jewel 
in  my  hands,  and  have  flung  it  at  my  feet " 

"That,"  retorted  the  organist,  "is  happily  a  vapor  that  will 
vanish  with  the  night.  To-morrow  you  will  remember  your 
promises  to  your  father  and  the  splendid  future  that  lies 
before  you." 

The  Chambers  were  opened ;  Sallenauve  had  not  been  pres- 
ent at  the  royal  sitting,  and  his  absence  had  not  failed  to 
cause  some  sensation  in  the  democratic  party.  At  the  office 
of  the  National  especially  there  had  been  quite  a  commotion. 
It  seemed  only  natural  to  expect  that,  as  part  owner  of  the 
paper  and  often  to  be  seen  at  the  office  before  the  elections, 
having  indeed  contributed  to  its  pages,  he  should,  after  being 
returned,  have  appeared  there  to  get  news  when  Parliament 
opened. 

"Now  he  is  elected,"  said  some  of  the  editors,  commenting 
on  the  new  member's  total  disappearance,  "does  my  gentle- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  451 

man  think  he  is  going  to  play  the  snob  ?  It  is  rather  a  com- 
mon trick  with  our  lords  and  masters  in  Parliament  to  pay  us 
very  obsequious  court  as  long  as  they  want  supporters,  and 
let  us  severely  alone,  like  their  old  coats,  as  soon  as  they  have 
climbed  the  tree.  But  we  cannot  allow  this  gentleman  to 
play  that  game ;  there  are  more  ways  than  one  of  turning  the 
tables  on  a  man." 

The  chief  editor,  less  easily  disturbed,  had  tried  to  soothe 
this  first  ebullition;  but  Sallenauve's  non-appearance  at  the 
opening  of  the  session  had,  nevertheless,  struck  him  as 
strange. 

On  the  following  day,  when  the  government  officials  were 
to  be  appointed — the  presidents  and  secretaries — a  business 
which  is  not  unimportant,  because  it  affords  a  means  of  esti- 
mating the  majority,  Sallenauve's  absence  was  of  more  real 
consequence.  In  the  office  to  which  fate  had  attached  him, 
the  election  of  the  head  was  carried  by  the  Ministerialists 
by  only  one  vote ;  thus  the  presence  of  the  Member  for  Arcis 
would  have  turned  the  scale  in  favor  of  the  Opposition. 
Hence  the  expression  of  strong  disapproval  in  the  organs  of 
that  party,  explaining  its  defeat  by  this  unforeseen  defection, 
of  which  they  spoke  with  some  acrimonious  surprise.  They 
applied  no  epithets  to  the  absentee's  conduct,  but  they  spoke 
of  it  as  "quite  inexplicable." 

Maxime  on  his  part  kept  a  sharp  lookout;  he  was  only 
waiting  till  the  official  ranks  of  the  Chamber  should  be  filled 
to  lay  before  the  House,  in  the  name  of  the  Romilly  peasant 
woman,  a  petition  to  prosecute.  This  document  had  been 
drawn  up  by  Masso),  and  under  his  practised  pen,  the  facts 
he  had  undertaken  to  set  forth  had  assumed  the  air  of  proba- 
bility which  attorneys  contrive  to  give  to  their  statements 
and  depositions  even  when  furthest  from  the  truth.  And 
now,  when  Sallenauve's  absence  was  so  prolonged  as  to  seem 
scandalous,  he  went  once  more  to  call  on  Rastignac;  and 
availing  himself  of  the  ingenious  plan  of  attack  suggested 
by  Desroches,  he  asked  the  Minister  if  he  did  not  think  that 
the  moment  had  come  when  he,  Rastignac,  should  abandon 


452  THE   MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

the  attitude  of  passive  observation  which  he  had  hitherto 
chosen  to  maintain. 

Eastignac  was,  in  fact,  far  more  explicit.  Sallenauve  in 
a  foreign  land  figured  in  his  mind  as  a  man  conscience- 
stricken,  who  had  lost  his  balance.  He  therefore  advised 
Monsieur  de  Trailles  to  bring  forward  the  preliminaries  of 
the  action  that  very  day,  and  no  longer  hesitated  to  promise 
his  support  for  the  success  of  a  scheme  which  now  looked  so 
hopeful,  and  from  which  a  very  pretty  scandal  might  reason- 
ably be  looked  for. 

The  effects  of  this  underground  influence  were  obvious 
on  the  very  next  day.  The  order  of  the  day  in  the  Lower 
Chamber  was  the  verification  of  the  returns.  The  member 
whose  duty  it  was  to  report  on  the  election  at  Arcis-sur-Aube 
happened  to  be  a  trusty  Ministerialist,  and,  acting  on  the 
private  instructions  that  had  reached  him,  he  took  this  view  of 
the  case : — 

The  constituents  of  Arcis  had  elected  their  member  accord- 
ing to  law.  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  had,  in  due  course,  sub- 
mitted to  the  examining  committee  all  the  documents  needed 
to  prove  his  eligibility,  and  there  was  no  apparent  difficulty 
in  the  way  of  his  taking  his  seat.  But  reports  of  a  strange 
character  had  arisen,  even  at  the  time  of  the  election,  as  to 
the  new  deputy's  identification,  and  in  further  support  of 
those  rumors  a  petition  had  now  been  presented  to  the  house 
to  authorize  a  criminal  prosecution.  This  petition  set  forth 
a  very  serious  accusation:  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  was  said 
to  have  assumed  the  name  he  bore  without  any  right,  and  this 
assumption  being  certified  on  an  official  document,  was  in- 
dictable as  a  forgery  committed  for  the  purpose  of  false  per- 
sonation. "A  circumstance  much  to  be  regretted,"  the 
speaker  went  on,  "was  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  absence; 
instead  of  appearing  to  contradict  the  extraordinary  accusa- 
tion lodged  against  him,  he  had  remained  absent  from  the 
sittings  of  the  House  ever  since  the  opening  of  the  session, 
and  nobody  had  seen  him.  Under  these  circumstances  could 
his  election  be  officially  ratified  ?  The  committee  had  thought 
not,  and  proposed  that  a  delay  should  be  granted." 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  AEGIS  453 

Daniel  d'Arthez,  a  member  of  the  Legitimist  Opposition, 
who,  as  we  saw  at  Arcis,  was  in  favor  of  Sallenauve's  return, 
at  once  rose  to  address  the  Chamber,  and  begged  to  point  out 
how  completely  out  of  order  such  a  decision  would  be. 

"The  legality  of  the  election  was  beyond  dispute.  No 
irregularity  had  been  proved.  Hence,  the  Chamber  had  no 
alternative ;  they  must  put  the  question  to  the  vote,  and  recog- 
nize the  election  as  regular  and  valid,  since  there  was  noth- 
ing to  invalidate  it.  To  confuse  with  that  issue  the  question 
as  to  a  petition  to  prosecute,  would  be  an  abuse  of  power, 
because,  by  hindering  any  preliminary  discussion  of  that 
question,  and  relieving  the  indictment  of  the  usual  formali- 
ties before  its  acceptance  or  rejection,  it  would  assume  a  sin- 
gular and  exceptional  character — that,  namely,  of  a  suspen- 
sion of  the  mandate  granted  to  their  member  by  the  sovereign 
power  of  the  electors.  And  who,"  added  the  orator,  "can  fail 
to  perceive  that  by  giving  effect  to  this  petition  for  authority 
to  prosecute,  in  any  form  whatever,  we  prejudge  its  justifica- 
tion and  importance;  wheieas  the  presumption  of  innocence, 
which  is  the  prerogative  of  every  accused  person,  ought  to 
be  especially  extended  to  a  man  whose  honesty  has  never 
been  open  to  doubt,  and  who  has  so  lately  been  honored  by  the 
suffrages  of  his  fellov-citizens." 

A  prolonged  discussion  followed,  the  Ministerial  speakers 
naturally  taking  the  opposite  view;  then  a  difficulty  arose. 
The  President  for  the  time  being,  in  right  of  seniority — for 
the  Chamber  had  not  yet  elected  its  chief — was  a  weary  old 
man,  who,  in  the  complicated  functions  so  suddenly  conferred 
on  him  by  his  register  of  birth,  was  not  always  prompt  and 
competent.  Sallenauve's  application  for  leave  of  absence 
had  reached  him  the  day  before;  and  if  it  had  occurred  to 
him  to  announce  it  to  the  Chamber  at  the  beginning  of  the 
sitting — as  he  ought  to  have  done — the  discussion  would 
probably  have  been  nipped  in  the  bud.  But  there  is  luck 
and  ill-luck  in  parliamentary  business;  and  when  the  House 
learned  from  this  letter,  at  last  communicated,  that  Charles 
de  Sallenauve  was  abroad,  and  had  no  ground  to  offer  for 


454  THE  MEMBER   FOR  ARCIS 

this  application  for  unlimited  leave  but  the  vague  common- 
place  of  "urgent  private  affairs,"  the  effect  was  disastrous. 

"It  is  self-evident/'  said  all  the  Ministerialists,  like  Ras- 
tignac,  "he  is  in  England,  where  every  form  of  failure  takes 
refuge.  He  is  afraid  of  the  inquiry;  he  knows  he  will  be 
unmasked." 

This  opinion,  apart  from  all  the  political  feeling,  was  shared 
by  some  of  the  sterner  spirits,  who  could  not  conceive  that 
a  man  should  not  appear  to  defend  himself  against  so  gross 
an  accusation.  In  short,  after  a  very  strong  and  skilful 
speech  from  Vinet  the  public  prosecutor,  who  had  found 
courage  in  the  absence  of  the  accused,  the  confirmation  of 
the  election  was  postponed,  though  by  a  very  small  majority; 
at  the  same  time,  a  week's  leave  of  absence  >as  voted  to  the 
accused  member. 

"    On  the  day  after  these  proceedings,  Maxime  wrote  as  fol- 
lows to  Madame  Beauvisage : — 

"MADAME, — The  enemy  met  with  a  terrible  reverse  yester- 
day ;  and  in  the  opinion  of  my  friend  Rastignac,  a  very  expe- 
rienced and  intelligent  judge  of  parliamentary  feeling,  Dor- 
lange,  whatever  happens,  cannot  recover  from  the  blow  thus 
dealt  him.  If  we  should  fail  to  procure  any  positive  proof  in 
support  of  our  worthy  countrywoman's  charge,  it  is  possible 
that  the  scoundrel,  by  sheer  audacity,  may  finally  be  accepted 
by  the  Chamber,  if,  indeed,  he  dares  show  his  face  in  France. 
But  even  then,  after  dragging  on  a  sordid  existence  utterly 
unrecognized,  he  will  inevitably  ere  long  be  driven  to  resign; 
then  M.  Beauvisage  will  be  elected  beyond  doubt,  for  the 
constituency,  ashamed  of  having  been  taken  in  by  an  adven- 
turer, will  be  only  too  happy  to  reinstate  themselves  by  a 
choice  that  will  do  them  honor,  besides  having  been  their 
first  instinctive  selection. 

"This  result,  madame,  will  be  due  to  your  remarkable 
sagacity;  for,  but  for  the  sort  of  second  sight  which  enabled 
you  to  divine  the  precious  truth  hidden  under  the  peasant- 
woman's  story,  we  should  have  overlooked  that  valuable  in- 


455 

strument.  I  may  tell  you,  madame,  even  if  it  should  inflate 
your  pride,  that  neither  Rastignac  nor  Vinet,  the  public  pros- 
ecutor, understood  the  full  importance  of  your  discovery; 
indeed,  I  myself,  if  I  had  not  been  so  happy  as  to  know  you, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  value  attaching  to  any  idea 
of  yours,  might  very  probably  have  shared  the  indifference  of 
these  two  statesmen  as  to  the  useful  weapon  you  were  putting 
into  our  hands.  But,  as  the  gift  came  from  you,  I  at  once  un- 
derstood its  importance;  and  while  pointing  out  to  Rastignac 
the  means  of  utilizing  it,  I  succeeded  in  making  my  friend  the 
Minister  an  eager  partner  in  the  plot,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
a  sincere  admirer  of  the  skill  and  perspicacity  of  which  you 
had  given  proof. 

"Thus,  madame,  if  I  should  ever  be  so  happy  as  to  be  con- 
nected with  you  by  the  bond  of  which  we  have  already  spoken, 
T  shall  not  need  to  initiate  you  into  political  life;  you  have 
found  the  path  so  well  unaided. 

"Nothing  new  can  happen  within  the  next  week,  the  length 
of  leave  granted  to  our  man.  If  after  that  date  the  absentee 
does  not  appear,  there  is,  I  think,  no  doubt  that  the  election 
will  be  pronounced  null  and  void ;  for  yesterday's  vote,  which 
you  will  have  read  in  the  papers,  is  a  positive  summons 
to  him  to  appear  in  his  place.  You  may  be  very  sure  that 
between  this  and  his  return — if  he  should  return — I  shall  not 
fail  to  devote  myself  to  fomenting  the  antagonistic  feeling 
of  the  Chamber  both  by  the  press  and  by  private  communica- 
tions. Rastignac  has  also  issued  orders  to  this  end,  and  it 
is  safe  to  conclude  that  the  foe  will  find  public  opinion 
strongly  prejudiced  against  him. 

"Allow  me,  madame,  to  beg  you  to  remember  me  to  Made- 
moiselle Cecile,  and  accept  for  yourself  and  Monsieur  Beau- 
visage  the  expression  of  my  most  respectful  regard." 

A  few  words  of  instruction  to  the  Ministerial  press  had,  in 
fact,  begun  to  surround  tbe  name  of  Sallenauve  with  a  sort 
of  atmospbere  of  disrespect  and  ridicule;  the  most  insulting 
innuendoes  ascribed  to  his  absence  the  sense  of  a  retreat  from 


456  THE   MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

his  foes.  The  effect  of  these  repeated  attacks  was  all  the 
more  inevitable  because  Sallenauve  was  but  feebly  defended 
by  the  politicians  of  his  own  party, 

Nor  was  this  lukewarm  feeling  at  all  surprising.  Not 
knowing  how  to  account  for  his  conduct,  the  Opposition 
papers,  while  they  felt  it  their  duty  to  defend  him,  were 
afraid  of  saying  'too  much  in  favor  of  a  man  whose  future  • 
grew  more  doubtful  every  day;  for  might  he  not  at  any  mo- 
ment give  the  lie  to  the  certificate  of  high  morals  which  had 
been  so  rashly  given  ? 

On  the  day  when  his  week's  leave  ended,  Sallenauve,  not 
having  yet  returned,  a  second-rate  Ministerial  paper  pub- 
lished, under  the  heading  of  "Lost,  a  deputy !"  an  insolent 
and  witty  article  which  made  a  considerable  sensation. 

That  evening  Madame  de  1'Estorade  called  on  Madame  de 
Camps,  and  found  her  alone  with  her  husband.  She  was 
greatly  excited,  and  exclaimed  as  she  went  in : 

"Have  you  read  that  infamous  article?" 

"No,"  said  Madame  de  Camps.  "But  my  husband  has  told 
me  about  it ;  it  is  really  disgraceful  that  the  Ministry  should 
order,  or  at  least  encourage,  anything  so  atrocious." 

"I  am  half  crazed  by  it,"  said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  "for 
it  is  all  our  doing/' 

"That  is  carrying  conscientious  scruples  too  far,"  said  Ma- 
dame de  Camps. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  the  ironmaster.  "I  agree  with  madame. 
All  the  venom  of  this  attack  would  be  dispersed  by  a  single 
step  on  1'Estorade's  part ;  and  by  refusing  to  take  it,  if  he  is 
not  the  originator,  he  is  at  least  the  abettor  of  the  scandal." 

"Then  you  have  told  him ?"  asked  the  Countess  re- 
proachfully. 

"Why,  my  dear,"  replied  Madame  Octave,  "though  we 
have  our  little  women's  secrets,  I  could  not  but  explain  to 
my  husband  what  had  given  rise  to  the  sort  of  monomania 
that  possesses  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade.  It  would  have  been 
such  a  distrust  of  my  second  self  as  would  have  hurt  him 
deeply;  and  such  explanations  as  I  felt  bound  to  give  him 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  457 

have  not,  I  think,  made  me  a  faithless  depositary  of  any 
secret  that  concerns  you  personally.'' 

"Ah,  you  are  a  happy  couple !"  said  Madame  de  FEstorade, 
with  a  sigh.  "However,  I  am  not  sorry  that  Monsieur  de 
Camps  should  have  been  admitted  to  our  confidence;  the 
point  is,  to  find  some  way  out  of  the  difficult  position  in 
which  I  am  struggling,  and  two  opinions  are  better  than 
one." 

"Why,  what  has  happened  ?"  asked  Madame  de  Camps. 

"My  husband's  head  is  quite  turned,"  replied  the  Countess. 
"He  seems  to  me  to  have  lost  every  trace  of  moral  sense. 
Far  from  perceiving  that  he  is,  as  Monsieur  de  Camps  said 
just  now,  the  abettor  of  the  odious  contest  now  going  on,  with- 
out having — as  those  who  had  started  it — the  excuse  of 
ignorance,  he  seems  to  exult  in  it.  He  brought  me  that 
detestable  paper  with  an  air  of  triumph,  and  I  found  him 
quite  ready  to  take  offence  because  I  did  not  agree  with  him 
in  thinking  it  most  amusing  and  witty." 

"That  letter,"  said  Madame  Octave,  "was  a  terrible  blow 
to  him ;  it  hit  him  body  and  soul  at  once." 

"That  I  grant,"  cried  the  ironmaster.  "But  deuce  take 
it !  If  you  are  a  man,  you  take  a  lunatic's  words  for  what 
they  are  worth." 

"Still,  it  is  very  strange,"  said  his  wife,  "that  Monsieur  de 
Sallenauve  does  not  come  back;  for,  after  all,  that  Jacques 
Bricheteau  to  whom  you  gave  his  address  must  have  written 
to  him." 

"What  is  to  be  done !"  exclaimed  the  Countess.  "There  has 
been  a  fatality  over  the  whole  business.  To-morrow  the 
question  is  to  be  discussed  in  the  Chamber  as  to  whether  or 
no  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  election  is  to  be  ratified ;  and  if 
he  should  not  then  be  in  his  place,  the  Ministry  hopes  to  be 
able  to  annul  it." 

"But  it  really  is  atrocious !"  said  Monsieur  de  Camps ;  "and 
though  my  position  hardly  justifies  me  in  taking  such  a  step, 
a  very  little  would  make  me  go  straight  to  the  President  of 
the  Chamber  and  tell  him  a  few  home  truths " 


45$  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

"I  would  have  begged  you  to  do  so,  I  think,  even  at  the 
risk  of  my  husband's  detecting  my  intervention,  but  for  one 
consideration — it  would  distress  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve 
so  greatly  that  his  friend's  unhappy  state  should  be  made 
public." 

"Certainly,"  said  Madame  Octave.  "Such  a  line  of  de- 
fence would  evidently  be  contrary  to  his  intentions;  and, 
after  all,  he  may  yet  arrive  in  time.  Besides,  the  decision  of 
the  Chamber  still  remains  problematical,  while,  Monsieur 
Marie-Gaston's  madness  once  known,  he  can  never  get  over 
the  blow." 

"And  then,"  added  Madame  de  FEstorade,  "all  the  odious 
part  that  my  husband  has  taken  so  far  in  this  dreadful  busi- 
ness is  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  a  really  diabolical  idea 
which  he  communicated  to  me  just  now  before  dinner." 

"What  can  that  be?"  asked  Madame  de  Camps  anxiously. 

"His  idea  is  that  to-morrow  I  am  to  go  with  him  to  the 
gallery  reserved  for  the  peers  to  hear  the  question  discussed," 

"Eeally,  he  is  losing  his  wits !"  said  Monsieur  de  Camps. 
"It  is  quite  like  Diafoirus  the  younger,  who  offers  his  bride 
elect  the  diversion  of  seeing  a  dissection " 

Madame  de  Camps  shook  her  head  meaningly  at  her  hus- 
band, as  much  as  to  say,  "Do  not  pour  oil  on  the  flames." 
She  merely  asked  the  Countess  if  she  had  not  shown  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade  how  monstrous  such  a  proceeding  would 
appear. 

"At  the  very  first  word  I  spoke  to  that  effect,  he  flew  into 
a  rage,"  said  Madame  de  FEstorade,  "telling  me  that  I  was 
apparently  only  too  glad  to  perpetuate  a  belief  in  our  inti- 
macy with  this  man,  since,  on  an  opportunity  when  I  could 
so  naturally  proclaim  our  rupture  to  the  public  I  so  reso- 
lutely declined  it." 

"Well,  then,  my  dear,  you  must  go,"  said  Madame  Octave, 
"Domestic  peace  before  all  things.  Besides,  after  all,  your 
presence  at  the  sitting  may  equally  well  be  regarded  as  a 
proof  of  kindly  interest." 

"For  fifteen  years,"  said  the  ironmaster,  "you  have  reigned 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  45» 

and  ruled  at  home,  and  this  is  a  revolution  which  seriously 
shifts  the  focus  of  power." 

"But,  monsieur,  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  should  never 
have  made  such  use  of  the  sovereignty,  which  indeed  I  have 
always  tried  to  conceal." 

"Do  I  not  know  it?"  replied  Monsieur  de  Camps  warmly, 
as  he  took  Madame  de  1'Estorade's  hands  in  his  own.  "But  I 
agree  with  my  wife — this  cup  must  be  drained." 

"I  shall  die  of  shame  as  I  listen  to  the  infamous  charges 
the  Ministerial  party  will  bring !  I  shall  feel  as  if  they  were 
murdering  a  man  under  my  own  eyes,  whom  I  could  save 
by  merely  putting  my  hand  out — and  I  cannot  do  it " 

"Yes,  it  is  so,"  said  Monsieur  de  Camps.  "And  a  man,  too, 
who  has  done  you  signal  service ;  but  would  you  rather  bring 
hell  into  your  house,  and  aggravate  your  husband's  unhealthy 
state?" 

"Listen,  my  dear,"  said  Madame  de  Camps.  "Tell  Mon- 
sieur de  1'Estorade  that  I  also  wish  to  go  to  this  sitting; 
that  it  will  give  less  cause  for  comment  if  you  are  seen  there 
with  a  person  who  is  uninterested  and  merely  curious ;  and  on 
that  point  do  not  give  way.  Then,  at  any  rate;  I  shall  be  there 
to  keep  your  head  straight  on  your  shoulders  and  preserve 
you  from  yourself." 

"I  should  not  have  dared  to  ask  it  of  you,"  replied  Madame 
de  1'Estorade,  "for  one  does  not  like  to  ask  any  one  to  assist 
in  evil-doing:  but  since  you  are  so  generous  as  to  offer  it,  I 
feel  I  am  a  degree  less  wretched. — Now,  good-night,  for  my 
husband  must  not  find  me  out  when  he  comes  in.  He  was  to 
dine  with  Monsieur  de  Rastignac,  and  no  doubt  they  have 
plotted  great  things  for  to-morrow." 

"Go  then;  and  in  an  hour  or  so  I  will  send  you  a  note, 
as  though  I  had  not  seen  you,  to  ask  if  you  have  any  power 
to  admit  me  to  the  Chamber  to-morrow,  as  the  meeting 
promises  to  be  interesting." 

"Oh !  To  be  brought  so  low  as  to  plot  and  contrive " 

said  Madame  de  1'Estorade,  embracing  her  friend. 

"My  dear  child,"  replied  Madame  de  Camps,  "it  is  said 


460  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

that  the  life  of  the  Christian  is  a  warfare;  but  that  of  a 
woman  married  to  a  certain  type  of  man  is  a  pitched  battle. 
Be  patient  and  take  courage." 
And  so  the  friends  parted. 

At  about  two  o'clock  on  the  following  day  Madame  de 
1'Estorade,  with  her  husband  and  Madame  de  Camps,  took  her 
seat  in  the  peers'  gallery;  she  looked  ill,  and  returned  the 
bows  that  greeted  her  from  various  parts  of  the  House  with 
cool  indifference.  Madame  de  Camps,  who  had  never  before 
found  herself  in  the  parliamentary  Chamber,  made  two  ob- 
servations: In  the  first  place,  she  exclaimed  at  the  slovenly 
appearance  of  so  many  of  the  honorable  members ;  and  then 
she  was  struck  by  the  number  of  bald  heads  which,  as  she 
looked  down  on  them  from  the  gallery  that  gave  her  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  the  assembly,  surprised  her  greatly. 

She  then  listened  while  Monsieur  de  1'Estorade  named  the 
notabilities  present;  first  all  the  bigwigs,  who  need  not  be 
mentioned  here,  since  their  names  dwell  in  everybody's  mem- 
ory; then  Canalis,  the  poet,  who  had,  she  thought,  an  Olym- 
pian air;  d'Arthez,  whose  modest  demeanor  greatly  attracted 
her;  Vinet,  who,  as  she  said,  was  like  a  viper  in  spectacles; 
Victorin  Hulot,  one  of  the  orators  of  the  Left  Centre.  It 
was  some  little  time  before  she  could  get  accustomed  to  the 
hum  of  conversation  all  round  her,  comparing  it  to  the  noise 
of  a  swarm  of  bees  buzzing  about  a  hive.  But  what  chiefly 
amazed  her  was  the  general  aspect  of  the  assembly;  the 
strange  free-and-easiness  and  total  absence  of  dignity  did  not 
in  the  least  suggest  that  it  was  representative  of  a  great 
nation. 

It  was  written  by  the  finger  of  fate  that  Madame  de  1'Es- 
torade  should  be  spared  no  form  of  annoyance.  Just  as  the 
sitting  was  about  to  open,  the  Marquise  d'Espard,  escorted 
by  Monsieur  de  Eonquerolles,  came  into  the  gallery,  and  took 
a  seat  close  to  her.  Though  they  met  in  society,  the  two 
women  could  not  endure  each  other.  Madame  de  1'Estorade 
scorned  the  spirit  of  intrigue,  the  total  want  of  principle,  and 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  461 

the  spiteful,  bitter  temper  which  the  Marquise  concealed  un- 
der the  most  elegant  manners;  while  Madame  d'Espard  had 
even  deeper  contempt  for  what  she  called  the  "pot-boiling" 
virtues  of  the  Countess.  It  must  be  added  that  Madame  de 
FEstorade  was  two-and-thirty,  and  of  a  type  of  beauty  that 
time  had  spared;  while  Madame  d'Espard  was  forty-four, 
and  in  spite  of  the  arts  of  the  toilet,  her  looks  were  alto- 
gether past. 

"Do  you  often  come  here?"  she  said  to  the  Countess,  after 
a  few  indispensable  civilities  as  to  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
her. 

"Never,"  said  Madame  de  FEstorade. 

"I  am  a  constant  visitor,"  said  Madame  d'Espard. 

Then,  with  the  air  of  making  a  discovery : 

"To  be  sure,"  she  added,  "you  have  a  special  interest  in  the 
meeting  to-day.  Some  one  you  know,  I  believe,  is  on  his 
trial." 

"Yes,  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  has  visited  at  my  house." 

"It  is  most  distressing,"  said  the  Marquise,  "to  see  a  man 
who,  as  Monsieur  de  Ronquerolles  assures  me,  was  quite  a 
hero  in  his  way  thus  called  to  account  by  the  police." 

"His  chief  crime,  so  far,  is  his  absence,"  said  the  Countess 
drily. 

"And  he  is  consumed  by  ambition,  it  would  seem,"  Madame 
d'Espard  went  on.  "Before  this  attempt  to  get  into  Parlia- 
ment he  had  matrimonial  projects,  as  you  no  doubt  know, 
and  had  tried  to  marry  into  the  Lanty  family — a  scheme 
which,  so  far  as  the  handsome  heiress  was  concerned,  ended 
in  her  retirement  to  a  convent." 

Madame  de  FEstorade  was  not  astonished  to  find  that  this 
story,  which  Sallenauve  had  believed  to  be  a  perfect  secret, 
was  known  to  the  Marquise ;  she  was  one  of  the  best-informed 
women  in  Paris.  An  old  Academician  had  called  her  draw- 
ing-room, in  mythological  parlance,  "The  Temple  of  Fame." 

"They  are  about  to  begin,  I  think,"  said  the  Countess,  who, 
always  expecting  to  feel  Madame  d'Espard's  claws,  was  not 
sorry  to  close  the  conversation. 


462  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

The  President  had  in  fact  rung  his  bell,  the  members  were 
settling  into  their  places,  the  curtain  was  about  to  rise. 

To  give  the  reader  a  faithful  account  of  the  sitting,  we 
think  it  will  be  at  once  more  exact  and  more  convenient  to 
copy  the  report  as  printed  in  one  of  the  papers  of  the  day. 

CHAMBEE  OF  DEPUTIES 

MONSIEUR  COINTET  (Vice  President)  in  the  Chair. 

May  23rd. 

The  President  took  the  chair  at  two  o'clock. 

On  the  Ministers'  bench  were  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals, 
the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  the  Minister  of  Public 
Works. 

The  report  of  the  last  meeting  was  read  and  passed. 

The  order  of  the  day  was  to  discuss  the  validity  of  the 
election  of  the  member  returned  by  the  borough  of  Arcis- 
sur-Aube. 

The  President — The  representative  of  the  Commission  of 
Inquiry  will  read  his  report. 

The  Reporter — Gentlemen,  the  strange  and  unsatisfactory 
position  in  which  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  has  thought  proper 
to  place  himself  has  not  ended  as  we  had  reason  to  hope. 
Monsieur  de  Sallenauve's  leave  of  absence  expired  yesterday, 
and  he  still  remains  away  from  the  sittings  of  the  Chamber ; 
nor  has  any  letter  from  him  applying  for  further  extension 
reached  the  President's  hands.  This  indifference  as  to  the 
functions  which  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  had  sought,  it 
would  seem,  with  unusual  eagerness  (murmurs  from  the 
Left),  would  under  any  circumstances  be  a  serious  defection; 
but  when  it  is  coupled  with  the  prosecution  now  threatened, 
does  it  not  assume  a  character  highly  damaging  to  his  repu- 
tation? (Murmurs  from  the  Left.  Applause  from  the 
Centre.)  Your  Commissioners,  compelled  to  seek  the  solu- 
tion of  a  question  which  may  be  said  to  be  unexampled  in 
parliamentary  annals,  when  considering  the  steps  to  be  taken, 
were  divided  by  two  opposite  opinions.  The  minority,  of 


THE   MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  463 

which  I  am  the  sole  representative — the  Commissioners  being 
but  three — thought  that  a  plan  should  be  laid  before  you 
which  I  may  call  radical  in  its  character,  and  which  aims  at 
settling  the  difficulty  by  submitting  it  to  its  natural  judges. 
Annul  M.  de  Sallenauve's  election  hie  et  nunc,  and  send  him 
back  to  the  constituency  which  returned  him,  and  of  which  he 
is  so  faithless  a  representative:  this  is  the  first  alternative  I 
have  to  offer  you.  (Excitement  on  the  Left.)  The  majority, 
on  the  contrary,  pronounced  that  the  electors'  vote  must  be 
absolutely  respected,  and  the  shortcomings  of  a  man  honored 
by  their  confidence  must  be  overlooked  to  the  utmost  limits 
of  patience  and  indulgence.  Consequently,  the  Commission 
requires  me  to  propose  that  you  should  officially  extend  M.  de 
Sallenauve's  leave  of  absence  to  a  fortnight  from  this  date — 
(murmurs  from  the  Centre.  "Hear,  hear,"  from  the  Left) — 
with  the  full  understanding  that  if  by  the  end  of  that  time 
M.  de  Sallenauve  has  given  no  sign  of  life,  he  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  simply  having  resigned  his  seat  without  entangling 
this  House  in  any  irritating  and  useless  discussion  of  the 
matter.  (Excitement  on  all  sides.) 

M.  le  Colonel  Franchessini,  who,  during  the  reading  of 
the  report,  had  been  engaged  in  earnest  conversation  with  the 
Minister  of  Public  Works  on  the  Ministers'  bench,  anxiously 
begged  to  be  heard. 

The  President — M.  de  Canalis  wishes  to  speak. 

M.  de  Canalis — Gentlemen,  M.  de  Sallenauve  is  one  of 
those  bold  men  who,  like  me,  believe  that  politics  are  not  a 
forbidden  fruit  to  any  intelligent  mind;  but  that  the  stuff 
of  which  a7  statesman  is  made  may  be  found  in  a  poet  or  an 
artist  quite  as  much  as  in  a  lawyer,  an  official,  a  doctor,  or  a 
land-owner.  In  virtue,  then,  of  our  common  origin,  M.  de 
Sallenauve  has  my  fullest  sympathy,  and  no  one  will  be  sur- 
prised to  see  me  mount  this  tribune  to  support  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  Commission.  Still,  I  cannot  agree  to  their 
final  decision ;  for  the  idea  of  our  colleague  being  regarded, 
by  the  mere  fact  of  his  prolonged  absence  beyond  the  limit 
of  leave,  as  having  resigned  his  seat,  is  repugnant  both  tc  my 


464  THE  MEMBER   FOR  ARCIS 

conscience  and  my  reason.  You  have  heard  it  remarked  that 
M.  de  Sallenauve's  carelessness  as  to  his  duties  is  all  the  less 
excusable  because  he  lies  under  a  serious  charge ;  but,  suppos- 
ing, gentlemen,  that  this  charge  were  the  actuating  cause  of 
his  absence.  (Laughter  from  the  Centre.)  Allow  me — I  am 
not  so  guileless  as  the  laughers  seem  to  fancy.  It  is  my 
good  fortune,  by  nature,  that  base  suggestions  do  not  occur 
to  me;  and  that  M.  de  Sallenauve,  with  the  high  position 
he  had  achieved  as  an  artist,  should  plot  to  take  his  seat  in 
this  Chamber  by  means  of  a  crime,  is  a  theory  I  refuse  to 
admit.  Two  foul  spiders  are  ever  ready  to  spin  their  web 
about  a  man  with  such  a  stain  on  his  birth — Chicanery  and 
Intrigue.  But  I,  far  from  admitting'  that  he  would  have 
fled  before  the  charge  brought  against  him,  I  say,  suppose 
that  at  this  moment,  abroad,  he  were  collecting  the  evidence 
for  his  defence?  ("Hear,  hear;  well  said!''  from  the  Left.) 
In  this  belief, — a  very  plausible  one,  as  it  seems  to  me — far 
from  being  justified  in  requiring  a  strict  account  of  his  ab- 
sence, ought  we  not  rather  to  regard  it  as  a  proof  of  respect 
for  this  House,  as  feeling  himself  unworthy  to  take  his  place 
in  it  till  he  was  in  a  position  to  defy  his  accusers  ? 

A  Voice — Ten  years'  leave  of  absence,  like  Telemachus, 
to  look  for  his  father.  (General  laughter.) 

M.  de  Canalis — I  did  not  expect  so  romantic  an  interrup- 
tion !  But  since  we  are  referred  to  the  Odyssey,  I  may  remind 
you  that  Ulysses,  after  suffering  every  outrage,  at  last  drew 
his  bow,  very  much  to  the  discomfiture  of  the  suitors.  (Loud 
murmurs  from  the  Centre.)  I  vote  for  a  fortnight's  further 
leave,  and  a  reopening  of  the  question  at  the  end  of  that  time. 

M.  le  Colonel  Franchessini — I  do  not  know  whether  the 
last  speaker  intended  to  intimidate  the  Chamber;  for  my 
part,  such  arguments  affect  me  very  little,  and  I  am  always 
prepared  to  return  them  to  those  who  utter  them.  ("Ordei, 
order,"  from  the  Left.) 

M.  le  President — No  personalities,  Colonel. 

M.  le  Colonel  Franchessini — At  the  same  time,  I  am  so 
far  of  the  same  opinion  as  the  last  speaker  that  I  do  not  be- 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  465 

lieve  that  the  delinquent  has  fled  from  the  charge  brought 
against  him.  Neither  that  accusation,  nor  the  effect  it  may 
have  on  your  minds  or  on  others,  nor  even  the  annulling  of  his 
election,  has  any  interest  for  him  at  present.  Do  you  wish 
to  know  what  M.  de  Sallenauve  is  doing  in  England  ?  Then 
read  the  English  papers.  They  have  for  some  days  been  full 
of  the  praises  of  a  prima  donna  who  has  just  come  out  at  Her 
Majesty's  Theatre.  (Groans  and  interruptions.) 

A  Voice — Such  gossip  is  unworthy  of  this  House. 

M.  le  Colonel  Franchessini — Gentlemen,  I  am  more  accus- 
tomed to  the  blunt  speech  of  camps  than  to  the  proprieties 
of  the  Chamber;  I  am  perhaps  rash  in  thinking  aloud.  The 
honorable  gentleman  who  spoke  last  said  that  he  believed  that 
M.  de  Sallenauve  had  gone  in  search  of  evidence  for  his  de- 
fence. I  say — not  I  believe,  but  I  know,  that  a  wealthy  for- 
eigner has  extended  his  protection  to  a  handsome  Italian 
who  was  formerly  honored  by  that  of  our  colleague  Phidias. 
(Fresh  interruptions.  "Order,  order;  this  is  not  to  be  al- 
lowed!") 

A  Voice — Monsieur  le  President,  will  you  not  silence  this 
speaker  ?" 

Colonel  Franchessini,  folding  his  arms,  waited  till  silence 
should  be  restored. 

M.  le  President — I  must  request  the  speaker  to  adhere  to 
the  question. 

M.  le  Colonel  Franchessini — I  have  never  deviated  from  it ; 
however,  as  the  Chamber  refuses  to  hear  me,  I  can  but  say  that 
I  vote  with  the  minority.  It  seems  to  me  a  very  natural  course 
to  send  Monsieur  de  Sallenauve  back  to  his  constituency, 
and  to  ascertain  whether  they  meant  to  elect  a  deputy  or  a 
lover.  ("Order,  order!"  A  great  commotion;  excitement  at 
the  highest  pitch.) 

M.  de  Canalis  hastily  tried  to  mount  the  tribune. 

M.  le  President — The  Minister  of  Public  Works  wishes  to 
speak,  and  as  one  of  the  King's  Ministry,  he  has  always  a 
right  to  be  heard. 

M.  de  Rastignac — It  is  no  fault  of  mine,  gentlemen,  that 


466  THE   MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

you  have  not  been  saved  from  this  scandal  in  the  Chamber. 
I  tried,  out  of  regard  for  my  old  friendship  with  Colonel 
Franchessini,  to  persuade  him  not  to  speak  on  so  delicate  a 
matter,  since  his  inexperience  of  parliamentary  rule,  aggra- 
vated by  his  ready  wit  and  fluency,  might  betray  him  into 
some  regrettable  extravagance.  It  was  to  this  effect  that  I 
advised  him  in  the  course  of  the  short  conversation  we  held 
at  my  seat  before  he  addressed  the  House ;  and  I  myself  asked 
to  be  heard  after  him  expressly  to  correct  any  idea  of  my 
collusion  in  the  indiscretion  he  has  committed — in  my  opinion 
— by  descending  to  the  confidential  details  he  has  thought 
proper  to  trouble  you  with.  However,  as  against  my  inten- 
tion, and  so  to  say,  against  my  will,  I  have  mounted  the 
tribune,  though  no  ministerial  interest  detains  me  here,  may 
I  be  allowed  to  make  a  few  brief  remarks  ?  ("Speak,  speak !" 
from  the  Centre.) 

The  Minister  of  Public  Works  proceeded  to  show  that  the 
absent  member's  conduct  was  characterized  by  marked  con- 
tempt for  the  Chamber.  He  had  treated  it  with  cavalier  in- 
difference. He  had  indeed  asked  leave  of  absence;  but  how? 
By  writing  from  abroad.  That  is  to  say,  he  first  took  leave, 
and  then  asked  for  it.  Had  he,  as  was  customary,  assigned 
any  reason  for  the  request  ?  Not  at  all.  He  simply  announced 
that  he  was  compelled  to  be  absent  on  urgent  private  business, 
a  trumpery  pretext  which  might  at  any  time  reduce  the  assem- 
bly by  half  its  members.  But  supposing  that  M.  de  Salle- 
nauve's  business  were  really  urgent,  and  that  it  were  of  a 
nature  which  he  thought  it  undesirable  to  explain  in  a  letter 
to  be  made  public,  why  could  he  not  have  laid  it  in  confidence 
before  the  President,  or  even  have  requested  one  of  his  friends 
of  such  standing  as  would  secure  credit  for  his  mere  word, 
to  answer  for  the  necessity  for  his  absence  without  any  de- 
tailed explanation  ? 

At  this  moment  the  Minister  was  interrupted  by  a  bustle  in 
the  passage  to  the  right ;  several  of  the.  members  left  their 
places;  others  standing  on  the  seats  and  craning  their  necks 
were  looking  at  something.  The  Minister,  after  turning  to 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  '461 

the  President,  to  whom  he  seemed  to  appeal  for  an  explana-r 
tion,  went  down  from  the  tribune  and  returned  to  his  seat, 
when  he  was  immediately  surrounded  by  a  number  of  depu- 
ties from  the  Centre,  among  whom  M.  Vinet  was  conspicuous 
by  his  gesticulations.  Other  groups  formed  in  the  arena;  in 
fact,  the  sitting  was  practically  suspended. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  President  rang  his  bell. 

The  ushers — Take  your  seats,  gentlemen. 

The  members  hastily  returned  to  their  places. 

M.  le  President — M.  de  Sallenauve  will  now  speak. 

M.  de  Sallenauve,  who  had  been  talking  to  M.  d'Arthez 
and  M.  de  Canalis  since  his  arrival  had  suspended  business, 
went  up  to  the  tribune.  His  manner  was  modest,  but  quite 
free  from  embarrassment.  Everybody  was  struck  by  his  re- 
semblance to  one  of  the  most  fiery  of  the  revolutionary  ora- 
tors. 

A   Voice — Danton  minus  the  smallpox. 

M.  de  Sallenauve  (deep  silence) — Gentlemen,  I  am  under 
no  illusion  as  to  my  personal  importance,  and  do  not  imagine 
that  I  myself  am  the  object  of  a  form  of  persecution,  which 
would  rather  seem  to  be  directed  against  the  opinions  I  have 
the  honor  to  represent.  However  that  may  be,  my  election 
seems  to  have  assumed  some  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Ministry.  To  contest  it,  a  special  agent  and  special  press 
writers  were  sent  to  Arcis ;  and  a  humble  servant  of  the  Gov- 
ernment, whose  salary,  after  twenty  years  of  honorable  ser- 
vice, had  reached  the  figure  of  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year, 
was  suddenly  dismissed  from  his  post  for  being  guilty  of 
contributing  to  my  success.  (Loud  murmurs  from  the  Cen- 
tre.) I  can  only  thank  the  gentlemen  who  are  interrupting 
me,  for  I  suppose  their  noisy  disapprobation  is  meant  for  this 
singular  dismissal,  and  not  to  convey  a  doubt  of  the  fact, 
which  is  beyond  all  question.  (Laughter  from  the  Left.) 
So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  as  I  could  not  be  turned  out,  I 
have  been  attacked  with  another  weapon;  judicial  calumny 
combined  with  my  opportune  absence — 

The  Minister  of  Public  Works — Tt  was  Ilir  Ministry  eri- 
dently  that  procured  your  extradition  to  England? 


468-  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

M.  de  Sallenauve — No,  Monsieur  le  Ministre,  I  do  not 
ascribe  my  absence  either  to  your  influence  or  to  your  sugges- 
tions; it  was  an  act  of  imperative  duty,  and  the  result  of  no 
one's  bidding;  but  as  regards  your  share  in  the  public  accu- 
sations brought  against  me,  I  shall  proceed  to  lay  the  facts 
before  this  assembly,  and  leave  the  matter  to  their  judgment. 
(A  stir  of  interest.)  The  law  which,  in  order  to  protect  the 
independence  of  a  member  of  this  Chamber,  lays  down  the  rule 
that  a  criminal  prosecution  cannot  be  instituted  against  any 
member  without  the  preliminary  authority  of  the  Chamber, 
has  been  turned  against  me,  I  must  say  with  consummate  skill. 
The  indictment,  if  presented  to  the  Attorney-General  in 
Court,  would  have  been  at  once  dismissed,  for  it  stands  alone 
without  the  support  of  any  kind  of  proof;  and,  so  far  as  I 
know,  the  Ministry  of  this  nation  is  not  in  the  habit  of  prose- 
cuting anybody  on  the  strength  of  the  allegation  of  the  first 
comer.  I  cannot,  therefore,  but  admire  the  remarkable  acu- 
men which  discerned  that  by  appealing  to  this  Chamber,  the 
charge  would  have  all  the  advantages  of  a  political  attack, 
though  it  had  not  the  elements  of  the  simplest  criminal  case. 
(Murmurs.)  And  then,  gentlemen,  who  is  the  skilful  par- 
liamentary campaigner  to  be  credited  with  this  masterly  de- 
vice ?  As  you  know,  it  is  a  woman,  a  peasant,  claiming  only 
the  humble  rank  of  a  hand- worker ;  whence  we  must  infer  that 
the  countrywomen  of  Champagne  can  boast  of  an  intellectual 
superiority  of  which  hitherto  you  can  surely  have  had  no  con- 
ception. (Laughter.)  It  must,  however,  be  added  that  be- 
fore setting  out  for  Paris  to  state  her  grievance,  my  accuser 
would  seem  to  have  had  an  interview,  which  may  have  thrown 
some  light  on  her  mind,  with  the  Mayor  of  Arcis,  my  minis- 
terial opponent  for  election ;  and  it  is  furthermore  to  be  sup- 
posed that  this  magistrate  had  some  interest  in  the  prosecu- 
tion-to  be  instituted,  since  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  pay  the 
traveling  expenses  both  of  the  plaintiff  and  of  the  village 
'lawyer  who  accompanied  her.  ("Ha-ha!"  from  the  Left.) 
This  remarkably  clever  woman  having  come  to  Paris,  on 
whom  does  she  first  call?  Well,  on  that  very  gentleman  who 
had  been  sent  to  Arcis  by  the  Government  as  a  special  agent 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  469 

to  insure  the  success  of  the  ministerial  candidate.  And  who 
then  made  it  his  business  to  apply  for  authority  to  prosecute  ? 
Not  indeed  that  same  special  agent,  but  a  lawyer  directed  by 
him,  after  a  breakfast  to  which  the  peasant  woman  and  her 
rustic  adviser  were  invited,  to  supply  the  necessary  grounds. 
(Much  excitement  and  a  long  buzz  of  talk.) 

The  Minister  of  Public  Works,  from  his  bench — Without 
discussing  the  truth  of  facts  of  which  I  personally  have  no 
knowledge,  I  may  state  on  my  honor  that  the  Government 
was  absolutely  unaware  of  all  the  intrigues  described,  and  re- 
pudiates and  blames  them  in  unqualified  terms. 

M.  de  Sallenauve — After  the  express  denial  which  I  have 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  elicit,  I  feel,  gentlemen,  that  it  would 
be  ungracious  to  insist  on  foisting  on  the  Government  the 
responsibility  for  these  proceedings;  but  that  I  should  have 
made  the  mistake  will  seem  to  you  quite  natural  if  you  re- 
member that  at  the  moment  when  I  entered  this  hall  the 
Minister  for  Public  Works  was  speaking  from  the  tribune 
and  taking  part  in  a  very  unusual  way  in  a  discussion  bearing 
on  the  rules  of  this  Chamber,  while  trying  to  convince  you 
that  I  had  treated  its  members  with  irreverent  contumely. 

The  Minister  for  Public  Works  made  some  remark  which 
was  not  heard;  there  was  a  long  burst  of  private  discussion. 

M.  Victorin  Hulot — I  would  beg  the  President  to  desire 
the  Minister  for  Public  Works  not  to  interrupt.  He  will  have 
the  opportunity  of  replying. 

M.  de  Sallenauve — According  to  M.  de  Rastignac,  I  failed 
in  respect  to  this  Chamber  by  applying  from  aBroad  for  the 
leave  of  absence  which  I  had  already  taken  before  obtaining 
the  permission  I  affected  to  ask.  But,  in  his  anxiety  to  prove 
me  in  the  wrong,  the  Minister  overlooks  the  fact  that  at  the 
time  when  I  set  out  the  session  had  not  begun,  and  that  by  ad- 
dressing such  a  request  to  the  President  of  the  Chamber  I 
should  have  appealed  to  a  pure  abstraction.  ("Quite  true," 
from  the  Left.)  As  to  the  inadequacy  of  the  reasons  assigned 
for  my  absence,  I  regret  to  say  that  I  was  unable  to  be  more 
explicit ;  that  if  I  should  reveal  the  true  cause  of  my  journey,  I 
should  betray  a  secret  that  is  not  mine.  At  the  same  time  I  was 


470  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS 

fully  aware  that  by  this  reserve — which  I  must  even  now 
maintain — I  exposed  my  actions  to  monstrous  misinterpreta- 
tion, and  might  expect  to  see  a  mixture  of  the  burlesque  and 
the  offensive  in  the  explanations  that  would  be  given  as  a 
substitute  for  the  facts.  (Excitement.)  In  reality,  I  was  so 
anxious  not  to  pretermit  any  of  the  formalities  required  by 
my  position,  that  I,  like  the  Minister  himself,  had  thought 
of  the  arrangement  by  which  I  fancied  I  had  put  everything 
in  order.  A  man  of  the  highest  honor,  and,  like  myself,  in 
possession  of  the  secret  that  compelled  me  to  travel,  had  been 
requested  by  me  to  guarantee  to  the  President  of  this  Cham- 
ber the  imperative  necessity  to  which  I  had  yielded.  But 
calumny  had,  no  doubt,  so  far  done  its  work  that  this  honor- 
able gentleman  feared  to  compromise  himself  by  affording 
the  signal  protection  of  his  name  and  word  to  a  man  threat- 
ened with  a  criminal  action.  Although  at  this  moment  dan- 
ger seems  to  be  receding  from  me,  I  shall  not  destroy  the 
incognito  in  which  he  has  thought  it  proper  and  wise  to  shroud 
his  defection.  The  less  I  was  prepared  for  this  egotistic  pru- 
dence, the  more  have  I  the  right  to  be  surprised  and  pained 
by  it;  but  the  more  careful  shall  I  be  to  let  this  breach  of 
friendship  remain  a  secret  between  myself  and  his  conscience, 
which  alone  will  blame  him. 

At  this  stage  there  was  a  great  commotion  in  the  gallery 
reserved  for  the  Peers  of  the  Upper  House,  everybody  crowd- 
ing to  help  a  lady  who  had  a  violent  attack  of  hysterics. 
Several  members  hurried  to  the  spot,  and  some,  doctors  no 
doubt,  left  {he  Chamber  in  haste.  The  sitting  was  inter- 
rupted for  some  minutes. 

The  President — Ushers,  open  the  ventilators.  It  is  want 
of  air  that  has  led  to  this  unfortunate  incident.  M.  de  Salle- 
nauve,  be  so  good  as  to  go  on  with  your  speech. 

M.  de  Sallenauve — To  resume,  briefly:  The  application 
for  authority  to  prosecute,  of  which  you  have  heard,  has  now, 
no  doubt,  lost  much  of  its  importance  in  the  eyes  of  my  col- 
leagues, even  of  the  more  hostile.  I  have  here  a  letter  in 
which  the  peasant-woman,  my  relation,  withdraws  her  charge 
and  confirms  the  statements  I  have  had  the  honor  of  laying 


THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS  4^ 

before  you.  I  might  read  the  letter,  but  I  think  it  better 
simply  to  place  it  in  the  President's  hands.  ("Quite  right, 
quite  right !")  As  regards  the  illegality  of  my  absence,  I 
returned  to  Paris  this  morning;  and  by  being  in  my  place  at 
the  opening  of  this  sitting,  I  could  have  been  in  my  seat  in 
Parliament  within  the  strict  limits  of  the  time  so  generously 
granted  me  by  this  Chamber.  But,  as  M.  de  Canalis  sug- 
gested to  you,  I  was  determined  not  to  appear  here  till  the 
cloud  that  hung  over  my  character  could  be  cleared  off.  This 
task  filled  up  the  morning. — Xow,  gentlemen,  it  is  for  you 
to  decide  whether  one  of  your  colleagues  is  to  be  sent  back  to 
his  constituents,  for  a  few  hours'  delay  in  coming  to  claim 
his  seat  in  this  Chamber.  After  all,  whether  I  am  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  forger,  a  desperate  lover,  or  merely  as  a  careless 
representative,  I  am  not  uneasy  as  to  what  their  verdict  will 
be ;  and  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  weeks,  the  probable  result,  as 
I  believe,  will  be  that  I  shall  come  back  again. 

On  all  sides  cries  of  "Divide." 

On  descending  from  the  tribune,  M.  de  Sallenauve  was 
warmly  congratulated. 

The  President — I  put  it  to  the  vote:  Whether  or  no  the 
election  of  M.  de  Sallenauve,  returned  as  Member  for  Arcis,  is 
or  is  not  valid  ? 

Almost  every  member  present  rose  to  vote  in  favor  of  the 
admission  of  the  new  member;  a  few  deputies  of  the  Centre 
abstained  from  voting  on  either  side. 

M.  de  Sallenauve  was  admitted  and  took  the  oaths. 

M.  le  President — The  order  of  the  day  includes  the  first 
reading  of  the  Address,  but  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee 
informs  me  that  the  draft  will  not  be  ready  to  be  laid  before 
this  Chamber  till  to-morrow.  Business  being  done,  I  pro- 
nounce the  sitting  closed. 

The  Chamber  rose  at  half-past  four. 


IOTE,— Balzac  lett  "The  Memtjcr  for  Arris"  unfinished.    See  introduction. 

J.  W.  M 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 
AND  OTHER  STORIES 


INTRODUCTION 

IT  would  be  difficult  to  find  another  book,  composed  of  two 
parts  by  the  same  author,  which  offers  more  remarkable  varia- 
tions and  contrasts  than  the  volume  which  contains  L'Envers 
de  I'Histoire  Contemporaine  and  Z.  Marcas.  And  in  certain 
respects  it  must  be  said  that  the  contrast  of  the  longer  and 
later  story  with  the  earlier  and  shorter  one  is  not  such  as 
to  inspire  us  with  any  great  certainty  that,  had  Balzac's  com- 
paratively short  life  been  prolonged,  we  should  have  had  many 
more  masterpieces.  It  is  true  that,  considering  the  remark- 
able excellence  of  the  work  (Les  Parents  Pauvres)  which  im- 
mediately preceded  L'Envers  de  I'Histoire,  it  is  not  possible 
to  say  with  confidence  that  the  inferiority  of  the  present 
book  is  anything  more  than  one  of  the  usual  phenomena  of 
maxima  and  minima — of  ups  and  downs — which  present 
themselves  in  all  human  affairs. 

At  the  same  time,  there  is  in  L'Envers  de  I'Histoire  Con- 
temporaine an  ominous  atmosphere  of  flagging,  combined 
with  a  not  less  ominous  return  to  a  weaker  handling  of  ideas 
and  schemes  which  the  author  had  handled  more  strongly 
earlier.  We  have  seen  that  the  secret-society  craze — a  favor- 
ite one  with  most  Frenchmen,  and  closely  connected  with 
their  famous  panic-terror  of  being  "betrayed"  in  war  and 
politics — had  an  especially  strong  hold  on  this  most  typical 
of  French  novelists.  He  had  almost  begun  his  true  career 
with  the  notion  of  a  league  of  Devorants,  of  persons  banded, 
if  not  exactly  against  society,  at  any  rate  for  the  gratifying 


x  INTRODUCTION 

of  their  own  desires  and  the  avenging  of  their  own  wrongs, 
wijh  an  utter  indifference  to  social  laws  and  arrangements. 
He  ended  it,  or  nearly  so,  with  the  idea  of  a  contrary  league 
of  Consolation,  which  should  employ  money,  time,  pains, 
and  combination  to  supply  the  wants  and  heal  the  wounds 
which  Society  either  directly  causes  or  more  or  less  callously 
neglects. 

The  later  idea  is,  of  course,  a  far  nohler  one  than  the 
earlier;  it  shows  a  saner,  healthier,  happier  state  of  imagina- 
tion; it  coincides  rather  remarkably  with  an  increasing  ten- 
dency of  the  age  ever  since  Balzac's  time.  Nay,  more,  the 
working  out  of  it  contains  none  of  those  improbabilities  and 
childishnesses  which,  to  any  but  very  youthful  tastes  and 
judgments,  mar  the  Histoire  des  Treize.  And  it  is  also  better 
written.  Balzac,  with  that  extraordinary  "long  development" 
of  his,  as  they  say  of  wines,  constantly  improved  in  this  par- 
ticular ;  and  whatever  may  be  the  doubts  on  the  point  referred 
to  above,  we  may  say  with  some  confidence  that  had  he  lived, 
he  would  have  written,  in  the  mere  sense  of  writing,  even 
better  and  better.  Yet  again,  we  catch  quaint  and  pleasant 
echoes  of  youth  in  these  pages,  and  are  carried  back  nearly 
fifty  years  in  nominal  date,  and  more  than  twenty  in  dates 
of  actual  invention,  by  such  names  as  Montauran  and  Pille- 
Miche  and  Marche-a-Terre. 

But  when  all  this  is  said,  it  cannot,  I  think,  be  denied  that 
a  certain  dulness,  a  heaviness,  does  rest  on  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie  and  L'Initie.  The  very  reference  to  the  Medecin 
de  Campagne,  which  Balzac  with  his  systematizing  mania 
brings  in,  calls  up  another  unlucky  contrast.  There,  too,  the 
benevolence  and  the  goodness  were  something  fanciful,  not  to 
say  fantastic;  but  there  was  an  inspiration,  a  vigor,  to  speak 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

rulgarly,  a  "go,"  which  we  do  not  find  here.  Balzac's  awk- 
ward and  inveterate  habit  of  parenthetic  and  episodic  narra- 
tives and  glances  backward  is  not  more  obvious  here  than  in 
many  other  pieces;  but  there  is  not,  as  in  some  at  least  of 
these  other  pieces,  strength  enough  of  main  interest  to  carry 
it  off.  The  light  is  clear,  it  is  religious  and  touching  in  its 
dimness;  but  the  lamp  burns  low. 

Z.  Marcas,  on  the  other  hand,  written  a  good  deal  earlier 
in  the  author's  public  career,  at  that  quaint  and  tumbledown 
residence  of  Les  Jardies,  where  he  did  some  of  his  very  best 
work,  has  all  the  verve  and  vigor  which  its  companion  or 
companions  lack.  Numerous  and  often  good  as  are  the  stories 
by  all  manner  of  hands,  eminent  and  other,  of  the  strange 
neighbors  and  acquaintance  which  the  French  habit  of  living 
in  apartments  brings  about,  this  may  vie  with  almost  the  best 
of  them  for  individuality  and  force.  Of  course,  it  may  be 
said  that  its  brevity  demanded  no  very  great  effort ;  and  also, 
a  more  worthy  criticism,  that  Balzac  has  not  made  it  so  very 
clear  after  all  why  the  political  ingratitude  of  those  for  whom 
Marcas  labored  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  gain  a  living 
more  amply  and  comfortably  than  by  copying.  The  former 
carp  needs  no  answer;  the  sonnet  is  the  equal  of  the  long 
poem  if  it  is  a  perfect  sonnet.  The  latter,  more  respectable, 
is  also  more  damaging.  But  it  is  a  fair,  if  not  quite  a  full, 
defence  to  say  that  Balzac  is  here  once  more  exemplifying 
his  favorite  notion  of  the  maniaque  in  the  French  sense — of 
the  man  with  one  idea,  who  is  incapable  not  only  of  making 
a  dishonorable  surrender  of  that  idea,  but  of  entering  into 
even  the  most  honorable  armistice  in  his  fight  for  it.  Not 
only  will  such  a  man  not  bow  in  the  House  of  Eimmon,  but 
the  fullest  liberty  to  stay  outside  will  not  content  him — he 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

must  force  himself  in  and  be  at  the  idol.  The  external  as  well 
as  the  internal  portraiture  of  Z.  Marcas  is  also  as  good  as  it 
can  be:  and  it  cannot  but  add  legitimate  interest  to  the 
sketch  to  remember,  first,  that  Balzac  attributes  to  Marcas 
his  own  favorite  habits  and  times  of  work ;  and  secondly, 
that,  like  some  other  men  of  letters,  he  himself  was  an  untir- 
ing, and  would  fain  have  been  an  influential,  politician. 

"Un  Episode  sous  la  Terreur  is  one  of  the  brilliant  things 
in  a  small  way,  which  the  author  did  not  attempt  afterwards 
to  expand  at  the  obvious  risk  of  weakening.  It  is  compressed 
into  compass  commensurate  with  its  artistic  limits,  and,  thus 
preserved,  it  displays  all  the  strength  and  vivacity  which  the 
plot  demands.  When  Balzac  was  thus  content  to  leave  a 
'skit'  of  this  sort,  or  when  he  condensed  as  only  Balzac 
could  condense — as  in  the  case  of  La  Maison  du  Chat-qui- 
Pelote — the  result  was  a  story  the  like  of  which  could  scarcely 
be  duplicated  in  the  whole  range  of  French  literature.  As 
for  the  sinister  side  of  Un  Episode  sous  la  Terreur,  it  is  well 
known  how  great  was  the  attraction  with  the  author  for 
things  of  this  kind.  And  that  he  treated  them  vigorously  and 
well,  this  story  will,  witness." 

Un  Episode  sous  la  Terreur,  together  with  the  two  stories 
just  noted,  forms  a  part  of  the  limited  Scenes  de  la  Vie  Po- 
litique. 

L'Envers  de  I'Histoire  Contemporaine,  as  above  stated,  was, 
in  part,  one  of  the  very  latest  of  Balzac's  works,  and  was 
actually  finished  during  his  residence  at  Vierzschovnia. 
Mada'me  de  la  Chanterie,  however,  was  somewhat  earlier, 
part  of  it  having  been  written  in  1842.  It  appeared  in  a 
fragmentary  and  rather  topsy-turvy  fashion,  with  separate 
titles,  in  the  Musee  des  Families,  from  September  in  the  year 


INTRODUCTION  xlii 

just  named  to  November  1844,  and  was  only  united  together 
in  the  first  edition  of  the  Comedie  two  years  later,  though 
even  after  this  it  had  a  separate  appearance  with  some  others 
of  its  author's  works  in  1847.  L'Initie,  or,  as  it  was  first  en- 
titled, Les  Freres  de  la  Consolation,  was  not  written  till  this 
latter  year,  and  appeared  in  1848  in  the  Spectateur  Repub- 
licain,  but  not  as  a  book  till  after  the  author's  death.  In 
both  cases  there  was  the  usual  alternation  of  chapter  divisions, 
with  headings  and  none. 

Z.  Marcas,  written  in  1840,  appeared  in  the  Revue  Paris- 
ienne  for  July  of  that  year,  made  its  first  book  appearance 
in  a  miscellany  by  different  hands  called  Le  Fruit  Defendu 
(1841),  and  five  years  later  took  rank  in  the  Comedie. 


The  other  stories  included  here  for  the  sake  of  convenience 
may  be  located  readily  by  reference  to  the  Balzacian  scheme, 
all  being  from  Scenes  de  la  Vie  Parisienne. 

A  Prince  of  Bohemia,  the  first  of  the  short  stories  which 
Balzac  originally  chose  as  make-weights  to  associate  with  the 
long  drama  of  Splendeurs  et  Miseres  des  Courtisanes,  is  one 
of  the  few  things  that,  both  in  whole  and  in  part,  one  would 
much  rather  he  had  not  written.  Its  dedication  to  Heine 
only  brings  out  its  shortcomings.  For  Heine,  though  he 
would  certainly  be  as  spiteful  and  unjust  as  Balzac  here 
shows  himself,  never  failed  to  carry  the  laugh  on  his  side. 
You  may  wish  him,  in  his  lampoons,  better  morals  and  better 
taste,  but  you  can  seldom  wish  him  better  literature.  Had  he 
made  this  attack  on  Sainte-Beuve,  we  should  certainly  not 
have  yawned  over  it ;  and  it  is  rather  amusing  to  think  of  the 


xir  INTRODUCTION 

sardonic  smile  with  which  the  dedicatee  must  have  read  Bal- 
zac's comfortable  assurance  that  he,  Heinrich  Heine,  would 
understand  the  plaisanterie  and  the  critique  which  Un  Prince 
de  la  Boheme  contains.  Heine  "understood"  most  things; 
but  if  understanding,  as  is  probable,  here  includes  sympa- 
thetic enjoyment,  we  may  doubt. 

It  was  written  at  the  same  time,  or  very  nearly  so,  as  the 
more  serious  attack  on  Sainte-Beuve  in  August  1840,  and, 
like  that,  appeared  in  Balzac's  own  Revue  Parisienne,  though 
it  was  somewhat  later.  The  thread,  such  as  there  is,  of  inter- 
est is  two-fold — the  description  of  the  Bohemian  grand  sei- 
gneur Rusticoli  or  La  Palferine,  and  the  would-be  satire  on 
Sainte-Beuve.  It  is  difficult  to  say  which  is  least  well  done. 
Both  required  an  exceedingly  light  hand,  and  Balzac's  hand 
was  at  no  time  light.  Moreover,  in  the  sketch  of  La  Palferine 
he  commits  the  error — nearly  as  great  in  a  book  as  on  the 
stage,  where  I  am  told  it  is  absolutely  fatal — of  delineating 
his  hero  with  a  sort  of  sneaking  kindness  which  is  neither 
dramatic  impartiality  nor  satiric  raillery.  La  Palferine  as 
portrayed  is  a  "raff,"  with  a  touch  of  no  aristocratic  quality 
except  insolence.  He  might  have  been  depicted  with  cynically 
concealed  savagery,  as  Swift  would  have  done  it ;  with  humor- 
ous ridicule,  as  Gautier  or  Charles  de  Bernard  would  have 
done  it;  but  there  was  hardly  a  third  way.  As  it  is,  the 
sneaking  kindness  above  referred  to  is  one  of  the  weapons  in 
the  hands  of  those  who — unjustly  if  it  be  done  without  a  great 
deal  of  limitation — contend  that  Balzac's  ideal  of  a  gentle- 
man was  low,  and  that  he  had  a  touch  of  snobbish  admiration 
for  mere  insolence. 

Here,  however,  it  is  possible  for  a  good-natured  critic  to 
put  in  the  apology  that  the  artist  has  tried  something  unto 


INTRODUCTION  XV 

which  he  was  not  born,  and  failing  therein,  has  apparently 
committed  faults  greater  than  his  real  ones.  This  kindness 
is  impossible  in  the  case  of  the  parodies,  which  are  no  paro- 
dies, of  Sainte-Beuve.  From  the  strictly  literary  point  of 
view,  it  is  disastrous  to  give  as  a  parody  of  a  man's  work, 
with  an  intention  of  casting  ridicule  thereon,  something 
which  is  not  in  the  least  like  that  work,  and  which  in  conse- 
quence only  casts  ridicule  on  its  author.  To  the  criticism 
which  takes  in  life  as  well  as  literature,  it  is  a  disaster  to  get 
in  childish  rages  with  people  because  they  do  not  think  your 
work  as  good  as  you  think  it  yourself.  And  it  is  not  known 
that  Balzac  had  to  complain  of  Sainte-Beuve  in  any  other 
way  than  this,  though  he  no  doubt  read  into  what  Sainte- 
Beuve  wrote  a  great  deal  more  than  Sainte-Beuve  did  say. 
There  is  a  story  (I  think  unpublished)  that  a  certain  very  great 
English  poet  of  our  times  once  met  an  excellent  critic  who 
was  his  old  friend  (they  are  both  dead  now).  "What  do  you 

mean  by  calling vulgar?"  growled  the  poet. — "I  didn't 

call  it  vulgar,"  said  the  critic. — "No ;  but  you  meant  it,"  re- 
joined the  bard.  On  this  system  of  interpretation  it  is  of 
course  possible  to  accumulate  crimes  with  great  rapidity 
on  a  censor's  head.  But  it  cannot  be  said  to  be  a  critical  or 
rational  proceeding.  And  it  must  be  said  that  if  an  author 
does  reply,  against  the  advice  of  Bacon  and  all  wise  people, 
he  should  reply  by  something  better  than  the  spluttering 
abuse  of  the  Revue  Parisienne  article  or  the  inept  and  irrele- 
vant parody  of  this  story. 

Un  Homme  d'Affaires,  relieved  of  this  unlucky  weight,  is 
better,  but  it  also,  in  the  eyes  of  some  readers,  does  not  stand 
very  high.  La  Palferinc  reappears,  and  that  more  exalted 
La  Palferine  Maxime  de  Trailles,  "Balzac's  pet  scoundrel," 


xvl  INTRODUCTION 

as  some  one  has  called  him,  though  not  present,  is  the  hero  of 
the  tale,  which  is  artificial  and  slight  enough. 

Gaudissart  II.  is  much  better.  Of  course,  it  is  very  slight, 
and  the  "Anglaise"  is  not  much  more  like  a  human  being 
than  most  "Anglaises"  in  French  novels  till  quite  recently. 
But  the  anecdote  is  amusing  enough,  and  it  is  well  and 
smartly  told. 

"Sarrasine  presents  two  points  of  divergence  from  other 
Balzacian  stories:  It  contains  no  feminine  characters,  al- 
though the  pro-  and  epilogue  introduce  two  of  the  'stock' 
women  personages  of  the  Comedie.  It  is  a  story  within  a 
story,  which  is  no  infrequent  thing,  but,  unlike  others, 
the  conteur  is  unknown.  While  not  dealing  with  a  theme  the 
most  pleasant,  Sarrasine  will  appeal  by  its  clear-cut  style;  it 
is  one  of  the  cleverest  of  the  shorter  tales.  Considering  the 
species  of  singer  referred  to,  the  personnel  of  the  Italian 
operatic  stage  was  well  known  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  Addi- 
son  and  Steele.  In  France  also  its  customs  were  freely  dis- 
cussed. Granted,  however,  that  such  was  the  case,  the  story 
is  open  to  criticism  on  this  account.  It  seems  hardly  possible 
that  a  well-informed  man  of  the  time  should  have  been  en- 
tirely ignorant  of  the  fact  that  the  Italians  allowed  no  women 
to  sing  in  public ;  and  that  this  man,  a  sculptor  by  profession, 
should  have  been  deceived  by  the  figure  of  a  eunuch  so  frankly 
displayed  in  the  glare  of  the  footlights.  He  studied  every 
line  of  every  limb.  He  noted  the  well-formed  shoulders  and 
the  poise  of  the  head.  He  reproduced  the  contour  of  the  form 
in  marble.  Yet  he  was  deluded  openly  and  hoaxed  without 
mercy.  But,  aside  from  this  possible  defect  in  plot,  the  story 
presents  a  striking  contrast  in  the  figures  of  the  passionate, 
obstinate,  hot-headed  man,  and  the  shrinking,  irresolute,  sex- 
less creature." 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

Facino  Cane  did  not  originally  rank  in  the  Parisian  Scenes 
at  all,  but  was  a  Conte  Philosophique.  It  is  slight  and  rather 
fanciful,  the  chief  interest  lying  in  Balzac's  unfailing  fellow- 
feeling  for  all  those  who  dream  of  millions,  as  he  himself  did 
all  his  life  long,  only  to  exemplify  the  moral  of  his  own  Peau 
de  Chagrin. 

Un  Prince  de  la  Bolieme,  in  its  Revue  Parisienne  appear- 
ance, bore  the  title  of  Les  Faniaisies  de  Claudine,  but  when, 
four  years  later,  it  followed  Honorine  in  book  form,  it  took 
the  present  label.  The  Comedie  received  it  two  years  later. 
Oaudissart  II.  was  written  for  a  miscellany  called  Le  Diable 
a  Paris;  but  as  this  delayed  its  appearance,  it  was  first  in- 
serted in  the  Presse  for  October  12,  1844,  under  a  slightly 
different  title,  which  it  kept  in  the  Diable.  Almost  immedi- 
ately, however,  it  joined  the  Comedie  under  its  actual  head- 
ing. Un  Homme  d' Affaires  appeared  in  the  Siecle  for  Sep- 
tember 10,  1845,  and  was  then  called  Les  Roueries  d'un  Crean- 
cier.  It  entered  the  Comedie  almost  at  once,  but  made  an. 
excursion  therefrom  to  join,  in  1847,  Ou  menent  les  mauvais 
chemins  and  others  as  Un  Drame  dans  les  Prisons. 

Facino  Cane  is  earlier  than  these,  having  first  seen  the 
light  in  the  Chronique  de  Paris  of  March  17,  1836.  Next  year 
it  became  an  fitude  Philosophique.  It  had  another  grouped 
appearance  (with  La  Muse  du  Departement  and  Albert 
Savarus)  in  1843,  and  entered  the  Comedie  the  year  after. 

Sarrasine  was  published  by  Werdet  in  October  1838,  being 
included  in  a  volume  with  Les  Secrets  de  la  Princesse  de 
Cadignan,  Les  Employes,  Facino  Cane  and  La  Maison  Nu- 
cingen,  the  latter  of  which  was  the  title  story.  It  was  in- 
cluded in  its  present  place  in  the  Comedie  in  1844. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 
FIRST  EPISODE 

MADAME  DE  LA  CHANTEEIE 

ONE  fine  September  evening,  in  the  year  1836,  a  man  of 
about  thirty  was  leaning  over  the  parapet  of  the  quay  at  a 
point  whence  the  Seine  may  be  surveyed  up  stream  from  the 
Jardin  des  Plantes  to  Notre-Dame,  and  down  in  grand  per- 
spective to  the  Louvre. 

There  is  no  such  view  elsewhere  in  the  Capital  of  Ideas 
(Paris).  You  are  standing,  as  it  were,  on  the  poop  of  a  ves- 
sel that  has  grown  to  vast  proportions.  You  may  dream  there 
of  Paris  from  Roman  times  to  the  days  of  the  Franks,  from 
the  Xormans  to  the  Burgundians,  through  the  Middle  Ages 
to  the  Valois,  Henri  IV.,  Napoleon,  and  Louis  Philippe. 
There  is  some  vestige  or  building  of  each  period  to  bring  it 
to  mind.  The  dome  of  Sainte-Genevieve  shelters  the  Quartier 
Latin.  Behind  you  rises  the  magnificent  east  end  of  the 
Cathedral.  The  Hotel  de  Ville  speaks  of  all  the  revolutions, 
the  Hotel  Dieu  of  all  the  miseries  of  Paris.  After  glancing 
at  the  splendors  of  the  Louvre,  take  a  few  steps,  and  you  can 
see  the  rags  that  hang  out  from  the  squalid  crowd  of  houses 
that  huddle  between  the  Quai  de  la  Tournelle  and  the  Hotel 
Dieu;  the  authorities  are,  however,  about  to  clear  them  away. 

In  1836  this  astonishing  picture  inculcated  yet  another  les- 
son. Between  the  gentleman  who  leaned  over  the  parapet  and 
the  cathedral,  the  deserted  plot,  known  of  old  as  le  Terrain, 
was  still  strewn  with  the  ruins  of  the  Archbishop's  palace.  As 
we  gaze  there  on  so  many  suggestive  objects,  as  the  mind  takes 
in  the  past  and  the  present  of  the  city  of  Paris,  Religion  seems 

CD 


2  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

to  have  established  herself  there  that  she  might  lay  her  hands 
on  the  sorrows  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  from  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Antoine  to  the  Faubourg  Saint-Marceau. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  these  sublime  harmonies  may  be  com- 
pleted by  the  construction  of  an  Episcopal  palace  in  a  Gothic 
style  to  fill  the  place  of  the  meaningless  buildings  that  now 
stand  between  the  Island,  the  Rue  d'Arcole,  and  the  Quai  do 
la  Cite. 

This  spot,  the  very  heart  of  old  Paris,  is  beyond  anything 
deserted  and  melancholy.  The  waters  of  the  Seine  break 
against  the  wall  with  a  loud  noise,  the  Cathedral  throws  its 
shadow  there  at  sunset.  It  is  not  strange  that  vast  thoughts 
should  brood  there  in  a  brain-sick  man.  Attracted  perhaps 
by  an  accordance  between  his  own  feelings  at  the  moment  and 
those  to  which  such  a  varied  prospect  must  give  rise,  the  loi- 
terer folded  his  hands  over  the  parapet,  lost  in  the  twofold  con- 
templation of  Paris  and  of  himself !  The  shadows  spread, 
lights  twinkled  into  being,  and  still  he  did  not  stir;  carried 
on  as  he  was  by  the  flow  of  a  mood  of  thought,  big  with  the 
future,  and  made  solemn  by  the  past. 

At  this  instant  he  heard  two  persons  approaching,  whose 
voices  had  been  audible  on  the  stone  bridge  where  they  had 
crossed  from  the  Island  of  the  Cite  to  the  Quai  de  la  Tour- 
nelle.  The  two  speakers  no  doubt  believed  themselves  to  be 
alone,  and  talked  somewhat  louder  than  they  Avould  have 
done  in  a  more  frequented  place,  or  if  they  had  noticed  the 
propinquity  of  a  stranger.  From  the  bridge  their  tones  be- 
trayed an  eager  discussion,  bearing,  as  it  seemed,  from  a  few 
words  that  reached  the  involuntary  listener,  on  a  loan  of 
money.  As  they  came  closer,  one  of  the  speakers,  dressed  as 
a  working  man,  turned  from  the  other  with  a  gesture  of  de- 
spair. His  companion  looked  round,  called  the  man  back,  and 
said: 

"You  have  not  a  sou  to  pay  the  bridge-toll.  Here !" — and 
he  gave  him  a  coin — "and  remember,  my  friend,  it  is  God 
Himself  who  speaks  to  us  when  a  good  thought  occurs  to  us." 

The  last  words  startled  the  dreamer.    The  man  who  spoke 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  tf 

had  no  suspicion  that,  to  use  a  proverbial  expression,  he  was 
killing  two  birds  with  one  stone;  that  he  spoke  to  two  un- 
happy creatures — a  workman  at  his  wits'  end,  and  a  soul  with- 
out a  compass;  a  victim  of  what  Panurge's  sheep  call  Prog- 
ress, and  a  victim  of  what  France  calls  equality. 

These  words,  simple  enough  in  themselves,  acquired 
grandeur  from  the  tone  of  the  speaker,  whose  voice  had  a 
sort  of  magical  charm.  Are  there  not  such  voices,  calm  and 
sweet,  affecting  us  like  a  view  of  the  distant  ocean  ? 

The  speaker's  costume  showed  him  to  be  a  priest,  and  hia 
face,  in  the  last  gleam  of  twilight,  was  pale,  and  dignified, 
though  worn.  The  sight  of  a  priest  coming  out  of  the  grand 
Cathedral  of  Saint  Stephen  at  Vienna  to  carry  extreme  unc- 
tion to  a  dying  man,  persuaded  Werner,  the  famous  tragic 
poet,  to  become  a  Catholic.  The  effect  was  much  the  same 
on  our  Parisian  when  he  saw  the  man  who,  without  intend- 
ing it,  had  brought  him  consolation ;  he  discerned  on  the  dark 
line  of  his  horizon  in  the  future  a  long  streak  of  light  where 
the  blue  of  heaven  was  shining,  and  he  followed  the  path  of 
light,  as  the  shepherds  of  the  Gospel  followed  the  voice  that 
called  to  them  from  on  high,  "Christ  the  Lord  is  born !" 

The  man  of  healing  speech  walked  on  under  the  cathedral, 
and  by  favor  of  Chance — which  is  sometimes  consistent — 
made  his  way  towards  the  street  from  which  the  loiterer  had 
come,  and  whither  he  was  returning,  led  there  by  his  own 
mistakes  in  life. 

This  young  man's  name  was  Godefroid.  As  this  narrative 
proceeds,  the  reader  will  understand  the  reasons  for  giving  to 
the  actors  in  it  only  their  Christian  names. 

And  this  is  the  reason  why  Godefroid,  who  lived  near  the 
Chausee  d'Antin,  was  lingering  at  such  an  hour  under  the 
shadow  of  Notre-Dame. 

He  was  the  son  of  a  retail  dealer,  who,  by  economy,  had 
made  some  little  fortune,  and  in  him  centered  all  the  ambi- 
tions of  his  parents,  who  dreamed  of  seeing  him  a  notary  in 
Paris.  At  the  early  age  of  seven  he  had  been  sent  to  a  school, 
kept  by  the  Abbe  Liautard,  where  he  was  thrown  together 
VOL.  16—32 


4  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

with  the  children  of  certain  families  of  distinction,  who  had 
selected  this  establishment  for  the  education  of  their  sons, 
out  of  attachment  to  religion,  which,  under  the  emperor,  was 
somewhat  too  much  neglected  in  the  Lycees,  or  public  schools. 
At  that  age  social  inequalities  are  not  recognized  between 
school-fellows;  but  in  1821,  when  his  studies  were  finished, 
Godefroid,  articled  to  a  notary,  was  not  slow  to  perceive  the 
distance  that  divided  him  from  those  with  whom  he  had  hith- 
erto lived  on  terms  of  intimacy. 

While  studying  the  law,  he  found  himself  lost  in  the  crowd 
of  young  men  of  the  citizen  class,  who,  having  neither  a  ready- 
made  fortune  nor  hereditary  rank,  had  nothing  to  look  to  but 
their  personal  worth  or  persistent  industry.  The  hopes  built 
upon  him  by  his  father  and  mother,  who  had  now  retired 
from  business,  stimulated  his  conceit  without  giving  him 
pride.  His  parents  lived  as  simply  as  Dutch  folks,  not  spend- 
ing more  than  a  quarter  of  their  income  of  twelve  thousand 
francs;  they  intended  to  devote  their  savings,  with  half  their 
capital,  to  the  purchase  of  a  connection  for  their  son.  Gode- 
froid, reduced  also  to  live  under  the  conditions  of  this  do- 
mestic thrift,  regarded  them  as  so  much  out  of  proportion  to 
his  parents'  dreams  and  his  own,  that  he  felt  disheartened. 
In  weak  characters  such  discouragement  leads  to  envy.  While 
many  other  men,  in  whom  necessity,  determination,  and  good 
sense  were  more  marked  than  talent,  went  straight  and  stead- 
fastly onward  in  the  path  laid  down  for  modest  ambitions, 
Godefroid  waxed  rebellious,  longed  to  shine,  insisted  on  fac- 
ing the  brightest  light,  and  so  dazzled  his  eyes.  He  tried  to 
"get  on,"  but  all  his  efforts  ended  in  demonstrating  his  in- 
capacity. At  last,  clearly  perceiving  too  great  a  discrepancy 
between  his  desires  and  his  prospects,  he  conceived  a  hatred 
of  social  superiority;  he  became  a  Liberal,  and  tried  to  make 
himself  famous  by  a  book;  but  he  learned,  to  his  cost,  to  re- 
gard talent  much  as  he  regarded  rank.  Having  tried  by 
turns  the  profession  of  notary,  the  bar,  and  literature,  he  now 
aimed  at  the  higher  branch  of  the  law. 

At  this  juncture  his  father  died.     His  mother,  content  in 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  5 

her  old  age  with  two  thousand  francs  a  year,  gave  up  almost 
her  whole  fortune  to  his  use.  Possessor  now,  at  five-and- 
twenty,  of  ten  thousand  francs  a  year,  he  thought  himself 
rich,  and  he  was  so  as  compared  with  the  past.  Hitherto  his 
life  had  been  a  series  of  acts  with  no  will  behind  them,  or  of 
impotent  willing;  so,  to  keep  pace  with  the  age,  to  act,  to  be- 
come a  personage,  he  tried  to  get  into  some  circle  of  society  by 
the  help  of  his  money. 

At  first  he  fell  in  with  journalism,  which  has  always  an 
open  hand  for  any  capital  that  comes  in  its  way.  Now,  to 
own  a  newspaper  is  to  be  a  Personage;  it  means  employing 
talent  and  sharing  its  successes  without  dividing  its  labors. 
Nothing  is  more  tempting  to  second-rate  men  than  thus  to 
rise  by  the  brains  of  others.  Paris  has  had  a  few  parvenus  of 
this  type,  whose  success  is  a  disgrace  both  to  the  age  and  to 
those  who  have  lent  a  lifting  shoulder. 

In  this  class  of  society  Godefroid  was  soon  cut  out  by  the 
vulgar  cunning  of  some  and  the  extravagance  *of  others,  by 
the  money  of  ambitious  capitalists  or  the  manoeuvring  of  edi- 
tors ;  then  he  was  dragged  into  the  dissipations  that  a  literary 
or  political  life  entails,  the  habits  of  critics  behind  the  scenes, 
and  the  amusements  needed  by  men  who  work  their  brains 
hard.  Thus  he  fell  into  bad  company;  but  he  there  learned 
that  he  was  an  insignificant-looking  person,  and  that  he  had 
one  shoulder  higher  than  the  other  without  redeeming  this 
malformation  by  any  distinguished  ill-nature  or  wit.  Bad 
manners  are  a  form  of  self-payment  which  actors  snatch  by 
telling  the  truth. 

Short,  badly  made,  devoid  of  wit  or  of  any  strong  bent,  all 
seemed  at  an  end  for  a  young  man  at  a  time  when  for  suc- 
cess in  any  career  the  highest  gifts  of  mind  are  as  nothing 
without  luck,  or  the  tenacity  which  commands  luck. 

The  revolution  of  1830  poured  oil  on  Godefroid's  wounds; 
he  found  the  courage  of  hope,  which  is  as  good  as  that  of  de- 
spair. Like  many  another  obscure  journalist,  he  got  an  ap- 
pointment where  his  Liberal  ideas,  at  loggerheads  with  the 
demands  of  a  newly-established  power,  made  him  but  a  re- 


6  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

fractory  instrument.  Veneered  only  with  Liberalism,  he  did 
not  know,  as  superior  men  did,  how  to  hold  his  own.  To  obey 
the  Ministry  was  to  him  to  surrender  his  opinions.  And  the 
Government  itself  seemed  to  him  false  to  the  laws  that  had 
given  rise  to  it.  Godefroid  declared  in  favor  of  movement 
when  what  was  needed  was  tenacity;  he  came  back  to  Paris 
almost  poor,  but  faithful  to  the  doctrines  of  the  opposition. 

Alarmed  by  the  licentiousness  of  the  press,  and  yet  more 
by  the  audacity  of  the  republican  party,  he  sought  in  retire- 
ment the  only  life  suited  to  a  being  of  incomplete  faculties, 
devoid  of  such  force  as  might  defy  the  rough  jolting  of  politi- 
cal life,  weary  too  of  repeated  failures,  of  suffering  and  strug- 
gles which  had  won  him  no  glory;  and  friendless,  because 
friendship  needs  conspicuous  qualities  or  defects,  while  pos- 
sessing feelings  that  were  sentimental  rather  than  deep. 
Was  it  not,  in  fact,  the  only  prospect  open  to  a  young  man 
who  had  already  been  several  times  cheated  by  pleasure,  and 
who  had  grown  prematurely  old  from  friction  in  a  social  cir- 
cle that  never  rests  nor  lets  others  rest  ? 

His  mother,  who  was  quietly  dying  in  the  peaceful  village 
of  Auteuil,  sent  to  her  son  to  come  to  her,  as  much  for  the 
sake  of  having  him  with  her  as  to  start  him  in  the  road  where 
he  might  find  the  calm  and  simple  happiness  that  befits  such 
souls.  She  had  at  last  taken  Godefroid's  measure  when  she 
saw  that  at  eight-and-twenty  he  had  reduced  his  whole  for- 
tune to  four  thousand  francs  a  year;  his  desires  blunted,  his 
fancied  talents  extinct,  his  energy  nullified,  his  ambition 
crushed,  and  his  hatred  for  every  one  who  rose  by  legitimate 
effort  increased  by  his  many  disappointments. 

She  tried  to  arrange  a  marriage  for  Godefroid  with  the  only 
daughter  of  a  retired  merchant,  thinking  that  a  wife  might 
be  a  guardian  to  his  distressful  mind,  but  the  old  father 
brought  the  mercenary  spirit  that  abides  in  those  who  have 
been  engaged  in  trade  to  bear  on  the  question  of  settlements. 
At  the  end  of  a  year  of  attentions  and  intimacy,  Godefroid's 
suit  was  rejected.  In  the  first  place,  in  the  opinion  of  these 
case-hardened  traders,  the  young  man  must  necessarily  have 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  1 

retained  a  deep-dyed  immorality  from  his  former  pursuits; 
and  then,  even  during  this  past  year,  he  had  drawn  upon  his 
capital  both  to  dazzle  the  parents  and  to  attract  the  daugh- 
ter. This  not  unpardonable  vanity  gave  the  finishing  touch ; 
the  family  had  a  horror  of  unthrift;  and  their  refusal  was 
final  when  they  heard  that  Godefroid  had  sacrificed  in  six 
years  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  of  his  capital. 

The  blow  fell  all  the  harder  on  his  aching  heart  because 
the  girl  was  not  at  all  good-looking.  Still,  under  his  mother's 
influence,  Godefroid  had  credited  the  object  of  his  addresses 
with  a  sterling  character  and  the  superior  advantages  of  a 
sound  judgment ;  he  was  accustomed  to  her  face,  he  had  stud- 
ied its  expression,  he  liked  the  young  lady's  voice,  man- 
ners, and  look.  Thus,  after  staking  the  last  hope  of  his  life 
on  this  attachment,  he  felt  the  bitterest  despair. 

His  mother  dying,  he  found  himself — he  whose  require- 
ments had  always  followed  the  tide  of  fashion — with  five 
thousand  francs  for  his  whole  fortune,  and  the  certainty  of 
never  being  able  to  repair  any  future  loss,  since  he  saw  him- 
self incapable  of  the  energy  which  is  imperatively  demanded 
for  the  grim  task  of  making  a  fortune. 

But  a  man  who  is  weak,  aggrieved,  and  irritable  cannot 
submit  to  be  extinguished  at  a  blow.  While  still  in  mourn- 
ing, Godefroid  wandered  through  Paris  in  search  of  some- 
thing to  "turn  up" ;  he  dined  in  public  rooms,  he  rashly  intro- 
duced himself  to  strangers,  he  mingled  in  society,  and  met 
with  nothing  but  opportunities  for  expenditure.  As  he  wan- 
dered about  the  Boulevards,  he  was  so  miserable  that  the  sight 
of  a  mother  with  a  young  daughter  to  marry  gave  him  as  keen 
a  pang  as  that  of  a  young  man  going  on  horseback  to  the  Bois, 
of  a  parvenu  in  a  smart  carriage,  or  of  an  official  with  a  rib- 
bon in  his  buttonhole.  The  sense  of  his  own  inadequacy  told 
him  that  he  could  not  pretend  even  to  the  more  respectable  of 
second-class  positions,  nor  to  the  easiest  form  of  office-work. 
And  he  had  spirit  enough  to  be  constantly  vexed,  and  sense 
enough  to  bewail  himself  in  bitter  self-accusation. 

Incapable  of  contending  with  life,  conscious  of  certain  su- 


8  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

perior  gifts,  but  devoid  of  the  will  that  brings  them  into  play, 
feeling  himself  incomplete,  lacking  force  to  undertake  any 
great  work,  or  to  resist  the  temptations  of  those  tastes  he 
had  acquired  from  education  or  recklessness  in  his  past  life, 
he  was  a  victim  to  three  maladies,  any  one  of  them  enough 
to  disgust  a  man  with  life  when  he  has  ceased  to  exercise  his 
religious  faith.  Indeed,  Godefroid  wore  the  expression  so 
common  now  among  men,  that  it  has  become  the  Parisian 
type:  it  bears  the  stamp  of  disappointed  or  smothered  ambi- 
tions, of  mental  distress,  of  hatred  lulled  by  the  apathy  of  a 
life  amply  filled  up  by  the  superficial  and  daily  spectacle  of 
Paris,  of  satiety  seeking  stimulants,  of  repining  without  tal- 
ent, of  the  affectation  of  force ;  the  venom  of  past  failure  which 
makes  a  man  smile  at  scoffing,  and  scorn  all  that  is  elevating, 
misprize  the  most  necessary  authorities,  enjoy  their  dilemmas, 
and  disdain  all  social  forms. 

This  Parisian  disease  is  to  the  active  and  persistent  coali- 
tion of  energetic  malcontents  what  the  soft  wood  is  to  the  sap 
of  a  tree ;  it  preserves  it,  covers  it,  and  hides  it. 

Weary  of  himself,  Godefroid  one  morning  resolved  to  give 
himself  some  reason  for  living.  He  had  met  a  former  school- 
fellow, who  had  proved  to  be  the  tortoise  of  the  fable  while 
he  himself  had  been  the  hare.  In  the  course  of  such  a  con- 
versation as  is  natural  to  old  companions  while  walking  in 
the  sunshine  on  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  he  was  amazed 
to  find  that  success  had  attended  this  man,  who,  apparently 
far  less  gifted  than  himself  with  talent  and  fortune,  had  sim- 
ply resolved  each  day  to  do  as  he  had  resolved  the  day  before. 
The  brain-sick  man  determined  to  imitate  this  simplicity  of 
purpose. 

"Life  in  the  world  is  like  the  earth,"  his  friend  had  said; 
"it  yields  in  proportion  to  our  labors." 

Godefroid  was  in  debt.  As  his  first  penance,  his  first  duty, 
he  required  himself  to  live  in  seclusion  and  pay  his  debts  out 
of  his  income.  For  a  man  who  was  in  the  habit  of  spending 
six  thousand  francs  when  he  had  five,  it  was  no  light  thing  to 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  9 

reduce  his  expenses  to  two  thousand  francs.  He  read  the  ad- 
vertisement-sheets every  morning,  hoping  to  find  a  place  of 
refuge  where  he  might  live  on  a  fixed  sum,  and  where  he  might 
enjoy  the  solitude  necessary  to  a  man  who  wanted  to  study 
and  examine  himself,  and  discern  a  vocation.  The  manners 
and  customs  of  the  boarding-houses  in  the  Quartier  Latin 
were  an  offence  to  his  taste;  a  private  asylum,  he  thought, 
would  be  unhealthy;  and  he  was  fast  drifting  back  into  the 
fatal  uncertainty  of  a  will-less  man,  when  the  following  adver- 
tisement caught  his  eye : 

"Small  apartments,  at  seventy  francs  a  month;  might  suit  a  clerk 
in  orders.  Quiet  habits  expected.  Board  included ;  and  the  rooms 
will  be  inexpensively  furnished  on  mutual  agreement.  Inquire  of 
M.  Millet,  grocer,  Rue  Chanoinesse,  by  Notre-Dame,  for  all  further 
particulars. " 

Attracted  by  the  artless  style  of  this  paragraph,  and  the 
aroma  of  simplicity  it  seemed  to  bear,  Godefroid  presented 
himself  at  the  grocer's  shop  at  about  four  in  the  afternoon, 
and  was  told  that  at  that  hour  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  was 
dining,  and  could  see  no  one  at  meal-times.  The  lady  would  be 
visible  in  the  evening  after  seven,  or  between  ten  and  twelve 
in  the  morning.  While  he  talked,  Monsieur  Millet  took  stock 
of  Godefroid,  and  proceeded  to  put  him  through  his  first  ex- 
amination— "Was  monsieur  single?  Madame  wished  for  a 
lodger  of  regular  habits.  The  house  was  locked  up  by  eleven 
at  latest." 

"Well,"  said  he  in  conclusion,  "you  seem  to  me,  monsieur, 
to  be  of  an  age  to  suit  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  views." 

"What  age  do  you  suppose  I  am?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"Somewhere  about  forty,"  replied  the  grocer. 

This  plain  answer  cast  Godefroid  into  the  depths  of  misan- 
thropy and  dejection.  He  went  to  dine  on  the  Quai  de  la 
Tournelle,  and  returned  to  gaze  at  Notre-Dame  just  as  the 
fires  of  the  setting  sun  were  rippling  and  breaking  in  wavelets 
on  the  buttresses  of  the  great  nave.  The  quay  was  already 
in  shadow,  while  the  towers  still  glittered  in  the  glow,  and 


10  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTOKY 

the  contrast  struck  Godefroid  as  he  tasted  all  the  bitterness 
which  the  grocer's  brutal  simplicity  had  stirred  within  him. 

Thus  the  young  man  was  oscillating  between  the  whisper- 
ings of  despair  and  the  appealing  tones  of  religious  harmony 
aroused  in  his  mind  by  the  cathedral  bells,  when,  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  silence,  and  calm  moonshine,  the  priest's  speech 
fell  on  his  ear.  Though  far  from  devout — like  most  men  of 
the  century — his  feelings  were  touched  by  these  words,  and 
he  went  back  to  the  Eue  Chanoinesse,  where  he  had  but  just 
decided  not  to  go. 

The  priest  and  Godefroid  were  equally  surprised  on  turn- 
ing into  the  Eue  Massillon,  opposite  the  north  door  of  the 
cathedral,  at  the  spot  where  it  ends  by  the  Rue  de  la  Colombe, 
and  is  called  Eue  des  Marmousets.  When  Godefroid  stopped 
under  the  arched  doorway  of  the  house  where  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie  lived,  the  priest  turned  round  to  examine  him  by 
the  light  of  a  hanging  oil-lamp,  which  will,  very  likely,  be 
one  of  the  last  to  disappear  in  the  heart  of  old  Paris. 

"Do  you  wish  to  see  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  monsieur?" 
asked  the  priest. 

"Yes,"  replied  Godefroid.  "The  words  I  have  just  heard 
you  utter  to  that  workman  prove  to  me  that  this  house,  if  you 
dwell  in  it,  must  be  good  for  the  soul." 

"Then  you  witnessed  my  failure,"  said  the  priest,  lifting 
the  knocker,  "for  I  did  not  succeed." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  it  was  the  workman  who  failed.  He 
had  begged  sturdily  enough  for  money." 

"Alas!"  said  the  priest,  "one  of  the  greatest  misfortunes 
attending  revolutions  in  France  is  that  each,  in  its  turn,  of- 
fers a  fresh  premium  to  the  ambitions  of  the  lower  classes. 
To  rise  above  his  status  and  make  a  fortune,  which,  in  these 
days,  is  considered  the  social  guarantee,  the  workman  throws 
himself  into  monstrous  plots,  which,  if  they  fail,  must  bring 
those  who  dabble  in  them  before  the  bar  of  human  justice. 
This  is  what  good-nature  sometimes  ends  in." 

The  porter  now  opened  a  heavy  gate,  and  the  priest  said  to 
Godefroid : 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  1\ 

"Then  you  have  come  about  the  rooms  to  let?" 

"Yes,  monsieur." 

The  priest  and  Godefroid  then  crossed  a  fairly  wide  court 
yard,  beyond  which  stood  the  black  mass  of  a  tall  house, 
flanked  by  a  square  tower  even  higher  than  the  roof,  and  amaz- 
ingly old.  Those  who  know  the  history  of  Paris  are  aware  that 
the  old  soil  has  risen  so  much  round  the  cathedral,  that  there 
is  not  a  trace  to  be  seen  of  the  twelve  steps  which  originally 
led  up  to  it.  Hence  what  was  the  ground  floor  of  this  house 
must  now  form  the  cellars.  There  is  a  short  flight  of  outer 
steps  to  the  door  of  the  tower,  and  inside  it  an  ancient  Vise 
or  stairs,  winding  in  a  spiral  round  a  newell  carved  to  imi- 
tate a  vine-stock.  This  style,  resembling  that  of  the  Louis 
XII.  staircases  at  Blois,  dates  as  far  back  as  the  fourteenth 
century. 

Struck  by  these  various  signs  of  antiquity,  Godefroid  could 
not  help  exclaiming : 

"This  tower  was  not  built  yesterday !" 

"It  is  said  to  have  withstood  the  attacks  of  the  Normans 
and  to  have  formed  part  of  a  primeval  palace  of  the  kings 
of  Paris;  but  according  to  more  probable  traditions,  it  was 
the  residence  of  Fulbert,  the  famous  Canon,  and  the  uncle 
of  Heloise." 

As  he  spoke  the  priest  opened  the  door  of  the  apartment, 
which  seemed  to  be  the  ground  floor,  and  which,  in  fact,  is 
now  but  just  above  the  ground  of  both  the  outer  and  the  inner 
courtyard — for  there  is  a  small  second  court. 

In  the  first  room  a  servant  sat  knitting  by  the  light  of  a 
small  lamp;  she  wore  a  cap  devoid  of  any  ornament  but  its 
gauffered  cambric  frills.  She  stuck  one  of  the  needles  through 
her  hair,  but  did  not  lay  down  her  knitting  as  she  rose  to  open 
the  door  of  a  drawing-room  looking  out  on  the  inner  court. 
This  room  was  lighted  up.  The  woman's  dress  suggested  to 
Godefroid  that  of  some  Gray  Sister. 

"Madame,  I  have  found  you  a  tenant,"  said  the  priest, 
showing  in  Godefroid.  who  saw  in  the  room  three  men,  sitting 
in  armchairs  near  Madame  de  la  Chanterie. 


12        -  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

The  three  gentlemen  rose;  the  mistress  of  the  house  also; 
and  when  the  priest  had  pushed  forward  a  chair  for  the 
stranger,  and  he  had  sat  down  in  obedience  to  a  sign  from 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie  and  an  old-fashioned  bidding  to  "Be 
seated,"  the  Parisian  felt  as  if  he  were  far  indeed  from  Paris, 
in  remote  Brittany,  or  the  backwoods  of  Canada. 

There  are,  perhaps,  degrees  of  silence.  Godefroid,  struck 
already  by  the  tranquillity  of  the  Eue  Massillon  and  Kue 
Chanoinesse,  where  a  vehicle  passes  perhaps  twice  in  a  month, 
struck  too  by  the  stillness  of  the  courtyard  and  the  tower, 
may  have  felt  himself  at  the  very  heart  of  silence,  in  this 
drawing-room,  hedged  round  by  so  many  old  streets,  old  court- 
yards, and  old  walls. 

This  part  of  the  Island,  called  the  Cloister,  preserves  the 
character  common  to  all  cloisters;  it  is  damp,  and  cold,  and 
monastic;  silence  reigns  there  unbroken,  even  during  the 
noisiest  hours  of  the  day.  It  may  also  be  remarked  that  this 
part  of  the  Cite,  lying  between  the  body  of  the  Cathedral  and 
the  river,  is  to  the  north  and  under  the  shadow  of  Notre- 
Dame.  The  east  wind  loses  itself  there,  unchecked  by  any 
obstacle,  and  the  fogs  from  the  Seine  are  to  some  extent  en- 
trapped by  the  blackened  walls  of  the  ancient  metropolitan 
church. 

So  no  one  will  be  surprised  at  the  feeling  that  came  over 
Godefroid  on  finding  himself  in  this  ancient  abode,  and  in 
the  presence  of  four  persons  as  silent  and  as  solemn  as  every- 
thing around  them.  He  did  not  look  about  him ;  his  curiosity 
centered  in  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  whose  name  even  had  al- 
ready puzzled  him. 

This  lady  was  evidently  a  survival  from  another  century, 
not  to  say  another  world.  She  had  a  rather  sweet  face,  with 
a  soft,  coldly-colored  complexion,  an  aquiline  nose,  a  benign 
brow,  hazel  eyes,  and  a  double  chin,  the  whole  framed  in  curls 
of  silver  hair.  Her  dress  could  only  be  described  by  the  old 
name  of  fourreau  (literally,  a  sheath,  a  tightly-fitting  dress), 
so  literally  was  she  cased  in  it,  in  the  fashion  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  material — silk  of  carmelite  gray,  finely  and 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  13 

closely  striped  with  green — seemed  to  have  come  down  from 
the  same  date;  the  body,  cut  low,  was  hidden  under  a  man- 
tilla of  richer  silk,  flounced  with  black  lace,  and  fastened  at 
the  bosom  with  a  brooch  containing  a  miniature.  Her  feet, 
shod  in  black  velvet  boots,  rested  on  a  little  stool.  Madame  de 
la  Chanterie,  like  her  maid-servant,  was  knitting  stockings, 
and  had  a  knitting  pin  stuck  through  her  waving  hair  under 
her  lace  cap. 

"Have  you  seen  Monsieur  Millet?"  she  asked  Godefroid 
in  the  head  voice  peculiar  to  dowagers  of  the  Faubourg  Saint- 
Germain,  as  if  to  invite  him  to  speak,  seeing  that  he  was  al- 
most thunderstruck. 

"Yes,  madame." 

"I  am  afraid  the  rooms  will  hardly  suit  you,"  she  went  on, 
observing  that  her  proposed  tenant  was  dressed  with  elegance 
in  clothes  that  were  new  and  smart. 

Godefroid,  in  fact,  was  wearing  patent  leather  boots,  yel- 
low gloves,  handsome  shirt-studs,  and  a  neat  watch  chain 
passed  through  the  buttonhole  of  a  black  silk  waistcoat 
sprigged  with  blue. 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie  took  a  small  silver  whistle  out  of 
her  pocket  and  blew  it.  The  woman  servant  came  in. 

"Manon,  child,  show  this  gentleman  the  rooms.  Will  you, 
my  dear  friend,  accompany  him?"  she  said  to  the  priest. 
"And  if  by  any  chance  the  rooms  should  suit  you,"  she  added, 
rising,  and  looking  at  Godefroid,  "we  will  afterwards  dis- 
cuss the  terms." 

Godefroid  bowed  and  went  out.  He  heard  the  iron  rattle 
of  a  bunch  of  keys  which  Manon  took  out  of  a  drawer,  and 
saw  her  light  a  candle  in  a  large  brass  candlestick. 

Manon  led  the  way  without  speaking  a  word.  When  he 
found  himself  on  the  stairs  again,  climbing  to  the  upper  floors, 
he  doubted  the  reality  of  things;  he  felt  dreaming  though 
awake,  and  saw  the  whole  world  of  fantastic  romance  such  as 
he  had  read  of  in  his  hours  of  idleness.  And  any  Parisian 
dropped  here,  as  he  was,  out  of  the  modern  city  with  its  lux- 
urious houses  and  furniture,  its  glittering  restaurants  and 


14  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

theatres,  and  all  the  stirring  heart  of  Paris,  would  have  felt 
as  he  did.  The  single  candle  carried  by  the  servant  lighted 
the  winding  stair  but  dimly;  spiders  had  hung  it  with  their 
dusty  webs. 

Manon's  dress  consisted  of  a  skirt  broadly  pleated  and  made 
of  coarse  woolen  stuff;  the  bodice  was  cut  square  at  the  neck, 
behind  and  before,  and  all  her  clothes  seemed  to  move  in  a 
piece.  Having  reached  the  second  floor,  which  had  been  the 
third,  Manon  stopped,  turned  the  springs  of  an  antique  lock, 
and  opened  a  door  painted  in  coarse  imitation  of  knotted  ma- 
hogany. 

"There!"  said  she,  leading  the  way. 

Who  had  lived  in  these  rooms?  A  miser,  an  artist  who 
had  died  of  want,  a  cynic  indifferent  to  the  world,  or  a  pious 
man  who  was  alien  to  it?  Any  one  of  the  four  seemed  pos- 
sible, as  the  visitor  smelt  the  very  odor  of  poverty,  saw  the 
greasy  stains  on  wall-papers  covered  with  a  layer  of  smoke, 
the  blackened  ceilings,  the  windows  with  their  small  dusty 
panes,  the  brown-tiled  floor,  the  wainscot  sticky  with  a  de- 
posit of  fog.  A  damp  chill  came  down  the  fireplaces,  faced 
with  carved  stonework  that  had  been  painted,  and  with  mir- 
rors framed  in  the  seventeenth  century.  The  rooms  were  at 
the  angle  of  a  square,  as  the  house  stood,  enclosing  the  inner 
courtyard,  but  this  Godefroid  could  not  see,  as  it  was  dark. 

"Who  used  to  live  here?"  Godefroid  asked  of  the  priest. 

"A  Councillor  to  the  Parlement,  Madame's  grand-uncle,  a 
Monsieur  de  Boisfrelon.  He  had  been  quite  childish  ever 
since  the  Revolution,  and  died  in  1832  at  the  age  of  ninety- 
six;  Madame  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  seeing  a  stranger  in 
the  rooms  so  soon;  still,  she  cannot  endure  the  loss  of 
rent  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  and  Madame  will  have  the  place  cleaned  and  fur- 
nished, to  be  all  monsieur  could  wish,"  added  Manon. 

"It  will  only  depend  on  how  you  wish  to  arrange  the  rooms," 
said  the  priest.  "They  can  be  made  into  a  nice  sitting-room 
and  a  large  bedroom  and  dressing-room,  and  the  two  small 
rooms  round  the  corner  are  large  enough  for  a  spacious  study. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  15 

That  is  how  my  rooms  are  arranged  below  this,  and  those  on 
the  next  floor." 

"Yes,"  said  Manon ;  "Monsieur  Alain's  rooms  are  just  like 
these,  only  that  they  look  out  on  the  tower." 

"I  think  I  had  better  see  the  rooms  again  by  daylight,"  said 
Godefroid  shyly. 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Manon. 

.The  priest  and  Godefroid  went  downstairs  again,  leaving 
Manon  to  lock  up,  and  she  then  followed  to  light  them  down. 
Then,  when  he  was  in  the  drawing-room,  Godefroid,  having 
recovered  himself,  could,  while  talking  to  Madame  de  la  Chan- 
terie,  study  the  place,  the  personages,  and  the  surroundings. 

The  window-curtains  of  this  drawing-room  were  of  old  red 
satin;  there  was  a  cornice- valance,  and  the  curtains  were 
looped  with  silk  cord ;  the  red  tiles  of  the  floor  showed  beyond 
an  ancient  tapestry  carpet  that  was  too  small  to  cover  it  en- 
tirely. The  woodwork  was  painted  stone-color.  The  ceiling, 
divided  down  the  middle  by  a  joist  starting  from  the  chim- 
ney, looked  like  an  addition  lately  conceded  to  modern  lux- 
ury ;  the  easy-chairs  were  of  wood  painted  white,  with  tapestry 
seats.  A  shabby  clock,  standing  between  two  gilt  candle- 
sticks, adorned  the  chimney-shelf.  An  old  table  with  stag's 
feet  stood  by  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  and  on  it  were  her 
balls  of  wool  in  a  wicker  basket.  A  clockwork  lamp  threw 
light  on  the  picture. 

The  three  men,  sitting  as  rigid,  motionless,  and  speechless 
as  Bonzes,  had,  like  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  evidently  ceased 
speaking  on  hearing  the  stranger  return.  Their  faces  were 
perfectly  cold  and  reserved,  as  befitted  the  room,  the  house, 
and  the  neighborhood. 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie  agreed  that  Godefroid's  observa- 
tions were  just,  and  said  that  she  had  postponed  doing  any- 
thing till  she  was  informed  of  the  intentions  of  her  lodger,  or 
rather  of  her  boarder;  for  if  the  lodger  could  conform  to  the 
ways  of  the  household,  he  was  to  board  with  them — but  their 
ways  were  so  unlike  those  of  Paris  life!  Here,  in  the  Kue 
Chanoinesse,  they  kept  country  hours;  every  one,  as  a  rule, 


16  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

had  to  be  in  by  ten  at  night;  noise  was  not  to  be  endured; 
neither  women  nor  children  were  admitted,  so  that  their  reg- 
ular habits  might  not  be  interfered  with.  No  one,  perhaps, 
but  a  priest  could  agree  to  such  a  rule.  At  any  rate,  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie  wished  for  some  one  who  liked  plain  living 
and  had  few  requirements;  she  could  only  afford  the  most 
necessary  furniture  in  the  rooms.  Monsieur  Alain  was  satis- 
fied, however — and  she  bowed  to  one  of  the  gentlemen — and 
she  would  do  the  same  for  the  new  lodger  as  for  the  old. 

"But,"  said  the  priest.  "I  do  not  think  that  monsieur  is 
quite  inclined  to  come  and  join  us  in  our  convent.'' 

"Indeed;  why  not?"  said  Monsieur  Alain.  "We  are  all 
quite  content,  and  we  all  get  on  very  well." 

"Madame,"  said  Godefroid,  rising,  "I  will  have  the  honor 
of  calling  on  you  again  to-morrow." 

Though  he  was  but  a  young  man,  the  four  old  gentlemen 
and  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  stood  up,  and  the  priest  escorted 
him  to  the  outer  steps.  A  whistle  sounded,  and  at  the  signal 
the  porter  appeared,  lantern  in  hand,  to  conduct  Godefroid 
to  the  street ;  then  he  closed  the  yellow  gate,  as  heavy  as  that 
of  a  prison,  and  covered  with  arabesque  ironwork,  so  old  that 
it  would  be  hard  to  determine  its  date. 

When  Godefroid  found  himself  sitting  in  a  h&ckney  cab 
and  being  carried  to  the  living  regions  of  Pans,  where  light 
and  warmth  reigned,  all  he  had  just  seen  seemed  like  a  dream ; 
and  as  he  walked  along  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  his  im- 
pressions already  seemed  as  remote  as  a  memory.  He  could 
not  help  saying  to  himself: 

"Shall  I  find  those  people  there  to-morrow,  I  wonder  ?" 

I 

On  the  following  day,  when  he  woke  in  the  midst  of  the 

elegance  of  modern  luxury  and  the  refinements  of  English 
comfort,  Godefroid  recalled  all  the  details  of  his  visit  to  the 
Cloister  of  Notre-Dame,  and  came  to  some  conclusions  in  his 
mind  as  to  the  things  he  had  seen  there.  The  three  gentle- 
men, whose  appearance,  attitude,  and  silence  had  left  an  im- 
pression on  him,  were  no  doubt  boarders,  as  well  as  the  priest 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  17 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  gravity  seemed  to  him  to  be  the 
result  of  the  reserved  dignity  with  which  she  had  endured 
some  great  sorrows.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  explanations 
he  gave  himself,  Godefroid  could  not  help  feeling  that  there 
was  an  air  of  mystery  in  these  uncommunicative  faces.  He 
cast  a  glance  at  his  furniture  to  choose  what  he  could  keep, 
what  he  thought  indispensable;  but,  transporting  them  in 
fancy  to  the  horrible  rooms  in  the  Rue  Chanoinesse,  he  could 
not  help  laughing  at  the  grotesque  contrast  they  would  make 
there,  and  determined  to  sell  everything,  and  pay  away  so 
much  as  they  might  bring;  leaving  the  furnishing  of  the 
rooms  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  He  longed  for  a  new  life, 
and  the  objects  that  could  recall  his  old  existence  must  be 
bad  for  him.  In  his  craving  for  transformation — for  his  was 
one  of  those  natures  which  rush  forward  at  once  with  a  bound, 
instead  of  approaching  a  situation  step  by  step  as  others  do 
— he  was  seized,  as  he  sat  at  breakfast,  by  an  idea :  he  would 
realize  his  fortune,  pay  his  debts,  and  place  the  surplus 
with  the  banking  firm  his  father  had  done  business  with. 

This  banking  house  was  that  of  Mongenod  and  Co.,  estab- 
lished in  Paris  since  1816  or  1817,  a  firm  whose  reputation 
had  never  been  blown  on  in  the  midst  of  the  commercial  de- 
pravity which  at  this  time  had  blighted,  more  or  less,  several 
great  Paris  houses.  Thus,  in  spite  of  their  immense  wealth, 
the  houses  of  Nucingen  and  du  Tillet,  of  Keller  Brothers,  of 
Palma  and  Co.,  suffer  under  a  secret  disesteem  whispered, 
as  it  were,  between  lip  and  ear.  Hideous  transactions  had  led 
to  such  splendid  results;  and  political  successes,  nay,  mon- 
archical principles,  had  overgrown  such  foul  beginnings,  that 
no  one  in  1834  thought  for  a  moment  of  the  mud  in  which 
the  roots  were  set  of  such  majestic  trees — the  upholders  of 
the  State.  At  the  same  time,  there  was  not  one  of  these 
bankers  that  did  not  feel  aggrieved  by  praises  of  the  house 
of  Mongenod. 

The  Mongenods,  following  the  example  of  English  bankers, 
make  no  display  of  wealth;  they  do  everything  quite  quietly, 
and  carry  on  their  business  with  such  prudence,  shrewdness, 


18  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

and  honesty  as  allow  them  to  operate  with  certainty  from  one 
end  of  the  world  to  the  other. 

The  present  head  of  the  house,  Frederic  Mongenod,  is 
brother-in-law  to  the  Vicomte  de  Fontaine.  Thus  his  numer- 
ous family  is  connected,  through  the  Baron  de  Fontaine,  with 
Monsieur  Grossetete,  the  Eeceiver-General  (brother  to  the 
Grossetete  and  Co.  of  Limoges),  with  the  Vandenesses,  and 
with  Planat  de  Baudry,  another  Eeceiver-General.  This  rela- 
tionship, after  being  of  the  greatest  service  to  the  late  Monge- 
nod senior  in  his  financial  operations  at  the  time  of  the  Bes- 
toration,  had  gained  him  the  confidence  of  many  of  the  old 
nobility,  whose  capital  and  vast  savings  were  intrusted  to  his 
bank.  Far  from  aiming  at  the  peerage,  like  Keller,  Xucin- 
gen,  and  du  Tillet,  the  Mongenods  kept  out  of  political  life, 
and  knew  no  more  of  it  than  was  needed  for  banking  busi- 
ness. 

Mongenod's  bank  occupies  a  magnificent  house  in  the  Eue 
de  la  Victoire,  with  a  garden  behind  and  a  courtyard  in  front, 
where  Madame  Mongenod  resided  with  her  two  sons,  with 
whom  she  was  in  partnership.  Madame  la  Yicomtesse  de 
Fontaine  had  taken  out  her  share  on  the  death  of  the  elder 
Mongenod  in  1827.  Frederic  Mongenod,  a  handsome  fellow 
of  about  five-and-thirty,  with  a  cold  manner,  as  silent  and 
reserved  as  a  Genevese,  and  as  neat  as  an  Englishman,  had 
acquired  under  his  father  all  the  qualifications  needed  in  his 
difficult  business. '  He  was  more  cultivated  than  most  bankers, 
for  his  education  had  given  him  the  general  knowledge  which 
forms  the  curriculum  of  the  ficole  Polytechnique ;  and,  like 
many  bankers,  he  had  an  occupation,  a  taste,  outside  his  reg- 
ular business,  a  love  of  physics  and  chemistry.  Mongenod 
junior,  ten  years  younger  than  Frederic,  filled  the  place,  un- 
der his  elder  brother,  that  a  head-clerk  holds  under  a  lawyer 
or  a  notary;  Frederic  was  training  him,  as  he  himself  had 
been  trained  by  his  father,  in  the  scientific  side  of  banking, 
for  a  banker  is  to  money  what  a  writer  is  to  ideas — they  both 
ought  to  know  everything. 

Godefroid,  as  he  mentioned  his  family  name,  could  see  how 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  19 

highly  his  father  had  been  respected,  for  he  was  shown  through 
the  offices  at  once  to  that  next  to  Mongenod's  private  room. 
This  room  was  shut  in  by  glass  doors,  so  that,  in  spite  of  his 
wish  not  to  listen,  Godefroid  overheard  the  conversation  going 
on  within. 

"Madame,  your  account  shows  sixteen  hundred  thousand 
francs  on  both  sides  of  the  balance  sheet,"  Mongenod  the 
younger  was  saying.  "I  know  not  what  my  brother's  views 
may  be;  he  alone  can  decide  whether  an  advance  of  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  is  possible.  You  lacked  prudence.  It 
is  not  wise  to  put  sixteen  hundred  thousand  francs  into  a 
business " 

"Too  loud,  Louis  \"  said  a  woman's  voice.  "Your  brother's 
advice  is  never  to  speak  but  in  an  undertone.  There  may 
be  some  one  in  the  little  waiting-room." 

At  this  instant  Frederic  Mongenod  opened  the  door  from 
his  living  rooms  to  his  private  office;  he  saw  Godefroid,  and 
went  through  to  the  inner  room,  where  he  bowed  respectfully 
to  the  lady  who  was  talking  to  his  brother. 

He  showed  Godefroid  in  first,  saying  as  he  did  so,  "And 
whom  have  I  the  honor  of  addressing?" 

As  soon  as  Godefroid  had  announced  himself,  Frederic  of- 
fered him  a  chair ;  and  while  the  banker  was  opening  his  desk, 
Louis  Mongenod  and  the  lady,  who  was  none  else  than  Ma- 
dame de  la  Chanterie,  rose  and  went  up  to  Frederic.  Then 
they  all  three  went  into  a  window  recess,  where  they  stood 
talking  to  Madame  Mongenod,  who  was  in  all  the  secrets  of 
the  business.  For  thirty  years  past  this  clever  woman  had 
given  ample  proofs  of  her  capacity,  to  her  husband  first,  now 
to  her  sons,  and  she  was,  in  fact,  an  active  partner  in  the 
house,  signing  for  it  as  they  did.  Godefroid  saw  in  a  pigeon- 
hole a  number  of  boxes  labeled  "La  Chanterie,"  and  num- 
bered 1  to  7. 

When  the  conference  was  ended  by  a  word  from  the  Senior 
to  his  brother,  "Well,  then,  go  to  the  cashier,"  Madame  dc  la 
Chanterie  turned  round,  saw  Godefroid,  restrained  a  start  of 
surprise,  and  then  asked  a  few  whispered  questions  of  Monge- 
nod, who  replied  briefly,  also  in  a  low  voice. 


20 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie  wore  thin  prunella  shoes  and  gray 
silk  stockings;  she  had  on  the  same  dress  as  before,  and  was 
wrapped  in  the  Venetian  cloak  that  was  just  coming  into 
fashion  again.  Her  drawn  bonnet  of  green  silk,  a  la  bonne 
femme,  was  lined  with  white,  and  her  face  was  framed  in  flow- 
ing lace.  She  stood  very  erect,  in  an  attitude  which  bore  wit- 
ness, if  not  to  high  birth,  at  any  rate  to  aristocratic  habits. 
But  for  her  extreme  affability,  she  would  perhaps  have 
seemed  proud.  In  short,  she  was  very  imposing. 

"It  is  not  so  much  good  luck  as  a  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence that  has  brought  us  together  here,  monsieur,"  said  she 
to  Godefroid.  "I  was  on  the  point  of  declining  a  boarder 
whose  habits,  as  I  fancied,  were  ill  suited  to  those  of  my 
household;  but  Monsieur  Mongenod  has  just  given  me  some 
information  as  to  your  family  which  is — 

"Indeed,  madame — monsieur —  •"  said  Godefroid,  address- 
ing the  lady  and  the  banker  together,  "I  have  no  longer  any 
family,  and  I  came  to  ask  advice  of  my  late  father's  banker 
to  arrange  my  affairs  in  accordance  with  a  new  plan  of  life." 

Godefroid  told  his  story  in  a  few  words,  and  expressed  his 
desire  of  leading  a  new  life. 

"Formerly,"  said  he,  "a  man  in  my  position  would  have 
turned  monk;  but  there  are  now  no  religious  Orders — 

"Go  to  live  with  Madame,  if  she  will  accept  you  as  a 
boarder,"  said  Frederic  Mongenod,  after  exchanging  glances 
with  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  "and  do  not  sell  your  invest- 
ments; leave  them  in  my  hands.  Give  me  the  schedule  of 
your  debts;  I  will  fix  dates  of  payment  with  your  creditors, 
and  you  can  draw  for  your  own  use  a  hundred  and  fifty  francs 
a  month.  It  will  take  about  two  years  to  pay  everything  off. 
During  those  two  years,  in  the  home  you  are  going  to,  you  will 
have  ample  leisure  to  think  of  a  career,  especially  as  the  peo- 
ple you  will  be  living  with  can  give  you  good  advice." 

Louis  Mongenod  came  back  with  a  hundred  thousand-franc 
notes,  which  he  gave  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  Godefroid 
offered  his  arm  to  his  future  landlady,  and  took  her  to  her 
hackney-coach. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  21 

"Then  we  shall  meet  again  presently,"  said  she  in  a  kind 
tone. 

"At  what  hour  shall  you  be  at  home,  madame  ?"  said  Gode- 
froid. 

"In  two  hours'  time." 

"I  have  time  to  get  rid  of  my  furniture,"  said  he,  with  a 
bow. 

During  the  few  minutes  while  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's 
arm  had  lain  on  his  as  they  walked  side  by  side,  Godefroid 
could  not  see  beyond  the  halo  cast  about  this  woman  by  the 
words,  "Your  account  stands  at  sixteen  hundred  thousand 
francs,"  spoken  by  Louis  Mongenod  to  a  lady  who  buried  her 
life  in  the  depths  of  the  Cloitre  de  Notre-Daine. 

This  idea,  "She  must  be  rich !"  had  entirely  changed  his 
view  of  things.  "How  old  is  she,  I  wonder?" 

And  he  had  a  vision  of  a  romance  in  his  residence  in  the 
Eue  Chanoinesse. 

"She  looks  like  an  aristocrat;  does  she  dabble  in  banking 
affairs?"  he  asked  himself. 

And  in  our  day  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  men  out  of 
a  thousand  would  have  thought  of  the  possibility  of  marry- 
ing this  woman. 

A  furniture-dealer,  who  was  also  a  decorator,  but  chiefly  an 
agent  for  furnished  flats,  gave  about  three  thousand  francs 
for  all  that  Godefroid  wished  to  dispose  of,  leaving  the  things 
in  his  rooms  for  the  few  days  needed  to  clean  and  arrange 
the  dreadful  rooms  in  the  Eue  Chanoinesse. 

Thither  the  brain-sick  youth  at  once  repaired;  he  called 
in  a  painter,  recommended  by  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  who 
undertook  for  a  moderate  sum  to  whitewash  the  ceilings,  clean 
the  windows,  paint  the  wainscoting  like  gray  maple,  and  color 
the  floors,  within  a  week.  Godefroid  measured  the  rooms  to 
carpet  them  all  alike  with  green  drugget  of  the  cheapest  de- 
scription. He  wished  everything  to  be  uniform  and  as  sim- 
ple as  possible  in  his  cell. 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie  approved  of  this.  With  Manon's 
assistance  she  calculated  how  much  white  dimity  would  be 


22  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

needed  for  the  window  curtains  and  for  a  simple  iron  bed- 
stead;  then  she  undertook  to  procure  the  stuff  and  to  have 
them  made  for  a  price  so  small  as  to  amaze  Godefroid.  With 
the  new  furniture  he  would  send  in,  his  apartments  would  not 
cost  him  more  than  six  hundred  francs. 

"So  I  can  take  about  a  thousand  to  Monsieur  Mongenod." 

"We  here  lead  a  Christian  life,"  said  Madame  de  la  Chan- 
terie,  "which  is,  as  you  know,  quite  out  of  keeping  with  much 
superfluity,  and  I  fear  you  still  preserve  too  many." 

As  she  gave  her  new  boarder  this  piece  of  advice,  she 
glanced  at  the  diamond  that  sparkled  in  a  ring  through  which 
the  ends  of  Godefroid's  blue  necktie  were  drawn. 

"I  only  mention  this,"  she  added,  "because  I  perceive  that 
you  are  preparing  to  break  with  the  dissipated  life  of  which 
you  spoke  with  regret  to  Monsieur  Mongenod." 

Godefroid  gazed  at  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  listening  with 
delight  to  the  harmony  of  her  clear  voice ;  he  studied  her  face, 
which  was  perfectly  colorless,  worthy  to  be  that  of  one  of 
the  grave  cold  Dutch  women  so  faithfully  depicted  by  the 
painters  of  the  Flemish  school,  faces  on  which  a  wrinkle 
would  be  impossible. 

"Plump  and  fair!"  thought  he,  as  he  went  away.  "Still, 
her  hair  is  white " 

Godefroid,  like  all  weak  natures,  had  readily  accustomed 
himself  to  the  idea  of  a  new  life,  believing  it  would  be  per- 
fect happiness,  and  he  was  eager  to  settle  in  the  Eue  Chanoi- 
nesse;  nevertheless,  he  had  a  gleam  of  prudence — or,  if  you 
like,  of  suspicion.  Two  days  before  moving  in  he  went  again 
to  Monsieur  Mongenod  to  ask  for  further  information  con- 
cerning the  household  he  was  going  to  join.  During  the  few 
minutes  he  had  spent  now  and  then  in  his  future  home,  to  see 
what  alterations  were  being  made,  he  had  observed  the  going 
and  coming  of  several  persons  whose  appearance  and  man- 
ner, without  any  air  of  mystery,  suggested  that  they  were 
busied  in  the  practice  of  some  profession,  some  secret  occu- 
pation with  the  residents  in  the  house.  At  this  time  many 
plots  were  afoot  to  help  the  elder  branch  of  Bourbons  to  re- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  23 

mount  the  throne,  and  Godefroid  believed  there  was  some 
conspiracy  here. 

But  when  he  found  himself  in  the  banker's  private  room 
and  under  his  searching  eye,  he  was  ashamed  of  himself  as  he 
formulated  his  question  and  saw  a  sardonic  smile  on  Frederic 
Mongenod's  lips. 

"Madame  la  Baronne  de  la  Chanterie,"  he  replied,  "is  one 
of  the  obscurest  but  one  of  the  most  honorable  women  in  Paris. 
Have  you  any  particular  reason  for  asking  for  information?" 

Godefroid  fell  back  on  flat  excuses — :he  was  arranging  to 
live  a  long  time  with  these  strangers,  and  it  was  as  well  to 
know  to  whom  he  was  tying  himself,  and  the  like.  But  the 
banker's  smile  only  became  more  and  more  ironical,  and 
Godefroid  more  and  more  ashamed,  till  he  blushed  at  the  step 
he  had  taken,  and  got  nothing  by  it ;  for  he  dared  ask  no  more 
questions  about  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  or  his  fellow- 
boarders. 

Two  days  later,  after  dining  for  the  last  time  at  the  Cafe 
Anglais,  and  seeing  the  first  two  pieces  at  the  Varietes,  at  ten 
o'clock  on  a  Monday  night  he  came  to  sleep  in  the  Eue  Chanoi- 
nesse,  where  Manon  lighted  him  to  his  room. 

Solitude  has  a  charm  somewhat  akin  to  that  of  the  wild  life 
of  savages,  which  no  European  ever  gives  up  after  having 
once  tasted  it.  This  may  seem  strange  in  an  age  when  every 
one  lives  so  completely  in  the  sight  of  others  that  everybody 
is  inquisitive  about  everybody  else,  and  that  privacy  will  soon 
have  ceased  to  exist,  so  quickly  do  the  eyes  of  the  Press — 
the  modern  Argus — increase  in  boldness  and  intrusiveness ; 
and  yet  the  statement  is  supported  by  the  evidence  of  the  first 
six  Christian  centuries,  when  no  recluse  ever  came  back  to 
social  life  again.  There  are  few  mental  wounds  that  solitude 
cannot  cure.  Thus,  in  the  first  instance,  Godefroid  was  struck 
by  the  calm  and  stillness  of  his  new  abode,  exactly  as  a  tired 
traveler  finds  rest  in  a  bath. 

On  the  day  after  his  arrival  as  a  boarder  with  Madame  de 
la  Chanterie,  he  could  not  help  cross-examining  himself  on 


24 

finding  himself  thus  cut  off  from  everything,  even  from  Paris, 
though  he  was  still  under  the  shadow  of  its  Cathedral.  Here, 
stripped  of  every  social  vanity,  there  would  henceforth  be  no 
witnesses  to  his  deeds  but  his  conscience  and  his  fellow- 
boarders.  This  was  leaving  the  beaten  high-road  of  the  world 
for  an  unknown  track ;  and  whither  would  the  track  lead  him  ? 
To  what  occupation  would  he  find  himself  committed? 

He  had  been  lost  in  such  reflections  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
when  Manon,  the  only  servant  of  the  establishment,  knocked 
at  his  door  and  told  him  that  the  second  breakfast  was  served ; 
they  were  waiting  for  him.  Twelve  was  striking. 

The  new  boarder  went  downstairs  at  once,  prompted  by 
his  curiosity  to  see  the  five  persons  with  whom  he  was  thence- 
forth to  live.  On  entering  the  drawing-room,  he  found  all 
the  residents  in  the  house  standing  up  and  dressed  precisely 
as  they  had  been  on  the  day  when  he  had  first  come  to  make 
inquiries. 

"Did  you  sleep  well?"  asked  Madame  de  la  Chanterie. 

"I  did  not  wake  till  ten  o'clock,"  said  Godefroid,  bowing 
to  the  four  gentlemen,  who  returned  the  civility  with  much 
gravity. 

"We  quite  expected  it,"  said  the  old  man,  known  as  Mon- 
sieur Alain,  and  he  smiled. 

"Manon  spoke  of  the  second  breakfast,"  Godefroid  went  on. 
"I  have,  I  fear,  already  broken  one  of  your  rules  without  in- 
tending it. — At  what  hour  do  you  rise?" 

"We  do  not  get  up  quite  by  the  rule  of  the  monks  of  old," 
replied  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  graciously,  "but,  like  work- 
men, at  six  in  winter  and  at  half-past  three  in  summer.  We 
also  go  to  bed  by  the  rule  of  the  sun ;  we  are  always  asleep  by 
nine  in  winter,  by  half-past  eleven  in  summer.  We  drink 
some  milk,  which  is  brought  from  our  own  farm,  after  pray- 
ers, all  but  Monsieur  1'Abbe  de  Veze,  who  performs  early 
Mass  ?t  Notre-Dame — at  six  in  summer,  at  seven  in  winter — 
and  these  gentlemen  as  well  as  I,  your  humble  servant,  at- 
tend that  service  every, day." 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie  finished  this  speech  at  table,  where 
her  five  Qfuests  were  now  seated. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  25 

The  dining-room,  painted  gray  throughout,  and  decorated 
with  carved  wood  of  a  design  showing  the  taste  of  Louis  XIV., 
opened  out  of  the  sort  of  ante-room  where  Manon  sat,  and 
ran  parallel  with  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  room,  adjoining 
the  drawing-room,  no  doubt.  There  was  no  ornament  but 
an  old  clock.  The  furniture  consisted  of  six  chairs,  their 
oval  backs  upholstered  with  worsted- work  evidently  done  by 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  of  two  mahogany  sideboards,  and  a 
table  to  match,  on  which  Manon  placed  the  breakfast  without 
spreading  a  cloth.  The  breakfast,  of  monastic  frugality,  con- 
sisted of  a  small  turbot  with  white  sauce,  potatoes,  a  salad, 
and  four  dishes  of  fruit:  peaches,  grapes,  strawberries,  and 
green  almonds ;  then,  by  way  of  hors  d'ceuvre,  there  was  honey 
served  in  the  comb  as  in  Switzerland,  besides  butter,  radishes, 
cucumber,  and  sardines.  The  meal  was  served  in  china 
sprigged  with  small  blue  cornflowers  and  green  leaves,  a  pat- 
tern which  was  no  doubt  luxuriously  fashionable  in  the  time  of 
Louis  XVI.,  but  which  the  increasing  demands  of  the  present 
day  have  made  common. 

"It  is  a  fast  day !"  observed  Monsieur  Alain.  "Since  we 
go  to  Mass  every  morning,  you  may  suppose  that  we  yield 
blindly  to  all  the  practices  of  the  Church,  even  the  strictest." 

"And  you  will  begin  by  following  our  example,"  added 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  with  a  side-glance  at  Godefroid, 
whom  she  had  placed  by  her  side. 

Of  the  four  boarders,  Godefroid  already  knew  the  names 
of  the  Abbe  de  Veze  and  Monsieur  Alain;  but  he  yet  had  to 
learn  those  of  the  other  two  gentlemen.  They  sat  in  silence, 
eating  with  the  absorbed  attention  that  the  pious  seem  to  de- 
vote to  the  smallest  details  of  their  meals. 

"And  does  this  fine  fruit  also  come  from  your  farm,  ma- 
dame?"  Godefroid  inquired. 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  she  replied.  "We  have  our  little  model 
farm,  just  as  the  Government  has;  it  is  our  country  house, 
about  three  leagues  from  hence,  on  the  road  to  Italy,  near 
Villeneuve-Saint-Georges." 

"It  is  a  little  estate  that  belongs  to  us  all,  and  will  be  the 


26  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

property  of  the  last  survivor,"  said  the  worthy  Monsieur 
Alain. 

"Oh,  it  is  quite  inconsiderable,"  added  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie,  who  seemed  afraid  lest  Godefroid  should  regard 
this  speech  as  a  bait.  . 

"There  are  thirty  acres  of  arable  land,"  said  one  of  the 
men  unknown  to  Godefroid,  "six  acres  of  meadow,  and  an 
enclosure  of  about  four  acres  of  garden,  in  the  midst  of  which 
our  house  stands;  in  front  of  it  is  the  farm." 

"But  such  an  estate  must  be  worth  above  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,"  observed  Godefroid. 

"Oh,  we  get  nothing  out  of  it  but  our  produce,"  replied  the 
same  speaker. 

He  was  a  tall  man,  thin  and  grave.  At  a  first  glance  he 
seemed  to  have  served  in  the  army;  his  white  hair  showed 
that  he  was  past  sixty,  and  his  face  revealed  great  sorrows 
and  religious  resignation. 

The  second  stranger,  who  appeared  to  be  a  sort  of  com- 
pound of  a  master  of  rhetoric  and  a  man  of  business,  was  of 
middle  height,  stout  but  active,  and  his  face  bore  traces  of  a 
joviality  peculiar  to  the  notaries  and  attorneys  of  Paris. 

The  dress  of  all  four  men  was  marked  by  the  extreme  neat- 
ness due  to  personal  care;  .and  Manon's  hand  was  visible  in 
the  smallest  details  of  their  raiment.  Their  coats  were  per- 
haps ten  years  old,  and  preserved,  as  a  priest's  clothes  are 
preserved,  by  the  occult  powers  of  a  housekeeper  and  by  con- 
stant use.  These  men  wore,,  as  it  were,  the  livery  of  a  sys- 
tem of  life ;  they  were  all  the  slaves  of  the  same  thought,  their 
looks  spoke  the  same  word,  their  faces  wore  an  expression 
of  gentle  resignation,  of  inviting  tranquillity. 

"Am  I  indiscreet,  madame,"  said  Godefroid,  "to  ask  the 
names  of  these  gentlemen  ?  I  am  quite  prepared  to  tell  them 
all  about  myself ;  may  I  not  know  as  much  about  them  as  cir- 
cumstances allow?" 

"This,"  said  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  introducing  the  tall, 
thin  man,  "is  Monsieur  Nicolas;  he  is  a  retired  Colonel  of 
the  Gendarmerie,  ranking  as  a  Major-General. — And  this 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  27 

gentleman,"  she  went  on,  turning  to  the  little  stout  man,  "was 
formerly  Councillor  to  the  Bench  of  the  King's  Court  in 
Paris;  he  retired  from  his  functions  in  August  1830 ;  his  name 
is  Monsieur  Joseph.  Though  you  joined  us  but  yesterday, 
I  may  tell  you  that  in  the  world  Monsieur  Nicolas  bore  the 
name  of  Marquis  de  Montauran,  and  Monsieur  Joseph  that 
of  Lecamus,  Baron  de  Tresnes;  but  to  us,  as  to  the  outer 
world,  these  names  no  longer  exist.  These  gentlemen  have 
no  heirs;  they  have  anticipated  the  oblivion  that  must  fall  on 
their  families;  they  are  simply  Monsieur  Nicolas  and  Mon- 
sieur Joseph,  as  you  will  be  simply  Monsieur  Godefroid." 

As  he  heard  these  two  names — one  so  famous  in  the  history 
of  Royalism  from  the  disaster  which  put  an  end  to  the  rising 
of  the  Chouans  at  the  beginning  of  the  Consulate,  the  other 
so  long  respected  in  the  records  of  the  old  Parlement — Gode- 
froid could  not  repress  a  start  of  surprise ;  but  when  he  looked 
at  these  survivors  from  the  wreck  of  the  two  greatest  institu- 
tions of  the  fallen  monarchy,  he  could  not  detect  the  slightest 
movement  of  feature  or  change  of  countenance  that  betrayed 
a  worldly  emotion.  These  two  men  did  not  or  would  not  re- 
member what  they  once  had  been.  This  was  Godefroid's 
first  lesson. 

"Each  name,  gentlemen,  is  a  chapter  of  history,"  said  he 
respectfully. 

"The  history  of  our  own  time,"  said  Monsieur  Joseph,  "of 
mere  ruins." 

"You  are  in  good  company,"  said  Monsieur  Alain,  smiling. 

He  can  be  described  in  two  words :  he  was  a  middle-class 
Paris  citizen;  a  worthy  man  with  the  face  of  a  calf,  dignified 
by  white  hairs,  but  insipid  with  its  eternal  smile. 

As  to  the  priest,  the  Abbe  de  Veze,  his  position  was  all 
sufficient.  The  priest  who  fulfils  his  mission  is  recognizable 
at  the  first  glance  when  his  eyes  meet  yours. 

What  chiefly  struck  Godefroid  from  the  first  was  the  pro- 
found respect  shown  by  the  boarders  to  Madame  de  la  Chan- 
terie;  all  of  them,  even  the  priest,  notwithstanding  the  sacred 
dignity  conferred  by  his  functions,  behaved  to  her  as  to  a 


28  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

queen.  He  also  noted  the  temperance  of  each  gr^est ;  they  ate 
solely  for  the  sake  of  nourishment.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie, 
like  the  rest,  took  but  a  single  peach  and  half  a  bunch  of 
grapes;  but  she  begged  the  newcomer  not  to  restrict  himself 
in  the  same  way,  offering  him  every  dish  in  turn. 

Godefroid's  curiosity  was  excited  to  the  highest  pitch  by 
this  beginning.  After  the  meal  they  returned  to  the  drawing- 
room,  where  he  was  left  to  himself;  Madame  de  la  Chanterie 
and  her  four  friends  held  a  little  privy  council  in  a  window 
recess.  This  conference,  in  which  no  animation  was  displayed, 
lasted  for  about  half  an  hour.  They  talked  in  undertones, 
exchanging  remarks  which  each  seemed  to  have  thought  out 
beforehand.  Now  and  again  Monsieur  Alain  and  Monsieur 
Joseph  consulted  their  pocket-books,  turning  over  the  leaves. 

"You  will  see  to  the  Faubourg/'  said  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie  to  Monsieur  Nicolas,  who  went  away. 

These  were  the  first  words  Godefroid  could  overhear. 

"And  you  to  the  Quartier  Saint-Marceau,"  she  went  on, 
addressing  Monsieur  Joseph. 

"Will  you  take  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain  and  try  to 
find  what  we  need?"  she  added  to  the  Abbe  de  Veze,  who  at 
once  went  off. — "And  you,  my  dear  Alain,"  she  added  with  a 
smile,  "look  into  matters. — To-day's  business  is  all  settled," 
said  she,  returning  to  Godefroid. 

She  sat  down  in  her  armchair,  and  took  from  a  little  work- 
table  some  under-linen  ready  cut  out,  on  which  she  began  to 
sew  as  if  working  against  time. 

Godefroid,  lost  in  conjectures,  and  seeing  in  all  this  a  Roy- 
alist conspiracy,  took  the  lady's  speech  as  introductory,  and, 
seating  himself  by  her  side,  watched  her  closely.  He  was 
struck  by  her  singular  skill  in  stitching;  while  everything 
about  her  proclaimed  the  great  lady,  she  had  the  peculiar 
deftness  of  a  paid  seamstress ;  for  every  one  can  distinguish, 
by  certain  tricks  of  working,  the  habits  of  a  professional  from 
those  of  an  amateur. 

"You  sew,"  said  Godefroid,  "as  if  you  were  used  to  the 
business." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  29 

"Alas!"  she  said,  without  looking  up,  "I  have  done  it  ere 
now  from  necessity " 

Two  large  tears  rose  to  the  old  woman's  eyes,  and  rolled 
down  her  cheeks  on  to  the  work  she  held. 

"Pray,  forgive  me,  madame !"  cried  Godef roid. 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie  looked  at  her  new  inmate,  and 
saw  on  his  features  such  an  expression  of  regret,  that  she 
nodded  to  him  kindly.  Then,  after  wiping  her  eyes,  she  recov- 
ered the  composure  that  characterized  her  face,  which  was  not 
so  much  cold  as  chilled. 

"You  here  find  yourself,  Monsieur  Godefroid — for,  as  you 
know  already,  you  will  be  called  only  by  your  Christian  name 
— amid  the  wreckage  from  a  great  storm.  We  have  all  been 
stricken  and  wounded  to  the  heart  through  family  interests  or 
damaged  fortunes,  by  the  forty  years'  hurricane  that  over- 
threw royalty  and  religion,  and  scattered  to  the  winds  the 
elements  that  constituted  France  as  it  was  of  old.  Words 
which  seem  but  trivial  bear  a  sting  for  us,  and  that  is  the  rea- 
son of  the  silence  that  reigns  here.  We  rarely  speak  of  our- 
selves ;  we  have  forgotten  what  we  were,  and  have  found  means 
of  substituting  a  new  life  for  the  old  life.  It  was  because  I 
fancied,  from  your  revelation  to  the  Mongenods,  that  there 
was  some  resemblance  between  your  situation  and  our  own, 
that  I  persuaded  my  four  friends  to  receive  you  among  us; 
in  fact,  we  were  anxious  to  find  another  recluse  for  our  con- 
vent. But  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  We  do  not  enter  on 
solitude  without  some  stock  of  moral  purpose." 

"Madame,  as  I  hear  you  speak,  I  shall  be  too  happy  to  ac- 
cept you  as  the  arbiter  of  my  destiny." 

"That  is  speaking  like  a  man  of  the  world,"  said  she.  "You 
are  trying  to  flatter  me — a  woman  of  sixty! — My  dear  boy," 
she  went  on,  "you  are,  you  must  know,  among  people  who  be- 
lieve firmly  in  God,  who  have  all  felt  His  hand,  and  who  have 
given  themselves  up  to  Him  almost  as  completely  as  do  the 
Trappists.  Have  you  ever  observed  the  assurance  of  a  true 
priest  when  he  has  given  himself  to  the  Lord,  when  he  heark- 
ens to  His  voice  and  strives  to  be  a  docile  instrument  under  the 


30  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

fingers  of  Providence?  He  has  shed  all  vanity,  all  self-con- 
sciousness, all  the  feelings  which  cause  constant  offences  to 
the  worldly ;  his  quiescence  is  as  complete  as  that  of  the  fatal- 
ist, his  resignation  enables  him  to  endure  all  things.  The 
true  priest — an  Abbe  da  Veze — is  like  a  child  with  his  mother ; 
for  the  Church,  my  dear  sir,  is  a  good  mother.  Well,  a  man 
may  be  a  priest  without  a  tonsure;  not  all  priests  are  in  or- 
ders. If  we  devote  ourselves  to  doing  good,  we  imitate  the 
good  priest,  we  obey  God ! — I  am  not  preaching  to  you ;  I  do 
not  want  to  convert  you ;  I  am  only  explaining  our  life." 

"Instruct  me,  madame,"  said  Godefroid,  quite  conquered. 
"I  would  wish  not  to  fail  in  any  particular  of  your  rules." 

"You  would  find  that  too  much  to  do ;  you  will  learn  by  de- 
grees. Above  all  things,  never  speak  here  of  your  past  mis- 
fortunes, which  are  mere  child's  play  as  compared  with  the 
terrible  catastrophes  with  which  God  has  stricken  those  with 
whom  you  are  now  living " 

All  the  time  she  spoke,  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  went  on 
pulling  her  thread  through  with  distracting  regularity;  but 
at  this  full  stop,  she  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  Godefroid ; 
she  saw  that  he  was  spellbound  by  the  thrilling  sweetness  of 
her  voice,  which  had  indeed  a  sort  of  apostolic  unction.  The 
young  sufferer  was  gazing  with  admiration  at  the  really  extra- 
ordinary appearance  of  this  woman,  whose  face  was  radiant. 
A  faint  flush  tinged  her  wax-white  cheeks,  her  eyes  sparkled, 
a  youthful  soul  gave  life  to  the  wrinkles  that  had  acquired 
sweetness,  and  everything  about  her  invited  affection.  Gode- 
froid sat  measuring  the  depth  of  the  gulf  that  parted  this 
woman  from  vulgar  souls ;  he  saw  that  she  had  attained  to  an 
inaccessible  height,  whither  religion  had  guided  her;  and  he 
was  still  too  much  of  the  world  not  to  be  stung  to  the  quick, 
not  to  long  to  go  down  into  that  gulf  and  climb  to  the  sharp 
peak  where  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  stood,  and  to  stand  by 
her  side.  While  he  gave  himself  up  to  a  thorough  study  of 
this  woman,  he  related  to  her  all  the  mortifications  of  his  life, 
all  he  could  not  say  at  Mongenod's,  where  his  self-betrayal  had 
been  limited  to  a  statement  of  his  position. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  31 

"Poor  child !" 

This  motherly  exclamation,  dropping  from  the  lips  of  Ma- 
dame de  la  Chanterie,  fell,  from  time  to  time,  like  healing 
balm,  on  the  young  man's  heart. 

"What  can  I  find  to  take  the  place  of  so  many  hopes  de- 
ceived, of  so  much  disappointed  affection?"  said  he  at  last, 
looking  at  the  lady,  who  seemed  lost  in  reverie.  "I  came  here," 
he  went  on,  "to  reflect  and  make  up  my  mind.  I  have  lost 
my  mother — will  you  take  her  place :" 

"But,"  said  she,  "will  you  show  me  a  son's  obedience?" 

"Yes,  if  you  can  show  me  the  tenderness  that  exacts  it." 

"Very  well;  we  will  try,"  said  she. 

Godefroid  held  out  his  hand  to  take  that  which  the  lady 
offered  him,  and  raised  it  reverently  to  his  lips.  Madame  de 
la  Chanterie's  hands  were  admirably  formed — neither  wrin- 
kled, nor  fat,  nor  thin ;  white  enough  to  move  a  young  woman 
to  envy,  and  of  a  shape  that  a  sculptor  might  copy.  Godefroid 
had  admired  these  hands,  thinking  them  in  harmony  with  the 
enchantment  of  her  voice  and  the  heavenly  blue  of  her  eye. 

"Wait  here,"  said  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  rising  and  go- 
ing into  her  own  room. 

Godefroid  was-  deeply  agitated,  and  could  not  think  to  what 
he  was  to  attribute  the  lady's  departure :  he  was  not  left  long 
in  perplexity,  for  she  returned  with  a  book  in  her  hand. 

"Here,  my  dear  bo}^"  said  she,  "are  the  prescriptions  of  a 
great  healer  of  souls.  When  the  things  of  everyday  life  have 
failed  to  give  us  the  happiness  we  looked  for,  we  must  seek  in 
a  higher  life,  and  here  is  the  key  to  that  new  world.  Read  a 
chapter  of  this  book  morning  and  evening;  but  give  it  your 
whole  attention;  study  every  word  as  if  it  were  some  foreign 
tongue.  By  the  end  of  a  month  you  will  be  another  man.  For 
twenty  years  now  have  I  read  a  chapter  every  day,  and  my 
three  friends,  Nicolas,  Alain,  and  Joseph,  would  no  more  omit 
it  than  they  would  miss  going  to  bed  and  getting  up  again; 

imitate  them  for  the  love  of  God — for  my  sake "  she  said, 

with  divine  serenity  and  dignified  confidence. 

Godefroid  turned  the  book  round  and  read  on  the  back 


32  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

Imitation  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  old  lady's  artlessness  and 
youthful  candor,  her  certainty  that  she  was  doing  him  good, 
confounded  the  ex-dandy.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  had  ex- 
actly the  manner,  the  intense  satisfaction,  of  a  woman  who 
might  offer  a  hundred  thousand  francs  to  a  merchant  on  the 
verge  of  bankruptcy. 

"I  have  used  this  book,"  she  said,  "for  six-and-twenty  years. 
God  grant  that  its  use  may  prove  contagious !  Go  and  buy 
me  another  copy,  for  the  hour  is  at  hand  when  certain  persons 
are  coming  here  who  must  not  be  seen/' 

Godefroid  bowed  and  went  up  to  his  rooms,  where  he  tossed 
the  book  on  a  table,  exclaiming : 

"Poor,  dear  woman  !     There " 

The  book,  like  all  that  are  constantly  used,  fell  open  at  a 
particular  place.  Godefroid  sat  down  to  arrange  his  ideas  a 
little,  for  he  had  gone  through  more  agitation  that  morning 
than  he  had  in  the  course  of  the  most  stormy  two  months  of 
his  life;  his  curiosity  especially  had  never  been  so  strongly 
excited.  His  eyes  wandered  mechanically,  as  happens  with 
men  when  their  minds  are  absorbed  in  meditation,  and  fell 
on  the  two  pages  that  lay  facing  him.  He  read  as  follows : — 

"CHAPTER  XII. 
"ON  THE  ROYAL  ROAD  OF  THE  HOLY  CROSS." 

He  picked  up  the  volume,  and  this  paragraph  of  that  grand 
book  captivated  his  eyes  as  though  by  words  of  fire : 

"He  has  gone  before  you  carrying  His  cross,  and  died  for 
you,  that  you  too  might  have  strength  to  carry  your  cross, 
and  be  willing  to  die  upon  the  Cross.  .  .  . 

"Go  where  you  will,  try  what  you  will,  you  will  not  find 
a  grander  way, or  a  safer  way, than  the  way  of  the  Holy  Cross. 
Arrange  and  order  all  your  life  as  you  like  or  think  fit,  still 
you  will  find  that  you  will  always  have  something  to  suffer, 
by  your  own  choice  or  by  necessity;  and  so  you  will  always 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  33 

find  a  cross.     For  either  you  will  have  bodily  pain  to  bear, 
or  some  trouble  of  the  spirit. 

"Sometimes  God  will  leave  you  to  yourself,  sometimes  you 
will  be  vexed  by  your  neighbor,  and,  what  is  harder  than  all, 
you  will  often  be  weary  of  yourself,  and  there  is  no  remedy 
or  solace  by  which  you  can  be  delivered  or  relieved.  You  will 
have  to  bear  your  trouble  as  long  as  God  decrees.  For  He 
wishes  you  to  learn  to  suffer  trial  without  consolation,  to 
yield  humbly  to  His  will,  and  to  become  humbler  by  means 
of  tribulations." 

"What  a  book !"  said  Godefroid  to  himself,  as  he  turned 
over  the  pages. 

And  he  came  upon  these  words: 

<rWhen  you  have  come  to  feel  all  trouble  sweet  and  pleasant 
for  the  love  of  Christ,  then  indeed  you  may  say  that  all  is 
well  with  you ;  you  have  made  for  yourself  a  heaven  on  earth/' 

Irritated  by  this  simplicity,  characteristic  of  strength,  and 
enraged  at  being  vanquished  by  this  book,  he  shut  it;  but 
on  the  morocco  cover  he  saw  this  motto,  stamped  in  letters 
of  gold: 

"Seek  only  that  which  is  eternal." 

"And  have  they  found  it  here?"  he  wondered. 

He  went  out  to  purchase  a  handsome  copy  of  the  Imitation 
of  Christ,  remembering  that  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  would 
want  to  read  a  chapter  that  evening.  He  went  downstairs 
and  into  the  street.  For  a  minute  or  two  he  remained  stand- 
ing near  the  gate,  undecided  as  to  which  way  he  would  go, 
and  wondering  in  what  street,  and  at  what  bookseller's  he 
might  find  the  book  he  needed ;  and  he  then  heard  the  heavy 
sound  of  the  outer  gate  shutting. 

Two  men  had  just  come  out  of  the  Hotel  de  la  Chanterie — 
for  the  reader,  if  he  has  understood  the  character  of  the  old 
house,  will  have  recognized  it  as  an  ancient  family  mansion. 
Manon,  when  she  had  called  Godefroid  to  breakfast,  had  asked 


34  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

him  how  he  had  slept  the  first  night  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Chan- 
terie,  laughing  as  she  spoke. 

Godefroid  followed  the  two  men,  with  no  idea  of  spying  on 
them;  and  they,  taking  him  for  an  indifferent  passer-by, 
talked  loud  enough  for  him  to  hear  them  in  those  deserted 
streets.  The  men  turned  down  the  Rue  Massillon,  along 
by  the  side  of  Notre-Dame,  and  across  the  Cathedral  Square. 

"Well,  old  man,  you  see  how  easy  it  is  to  get  the  coppers 
out  of  'em !  You  must  talk  their  lingo,  that  is  all." 

"But  we  owe  the  money." 

"Who  to?" 

"To  the  lady " 

"I  should  like  to  see  myself  sued  for  debt  by  that  old 
image !  I  would — 

"You  would  what? — You  would  pay  her,  I  can  tell  you." 

"You're  right  there,  for  if  I  paid  I  could  get  more  out  of 
her  afterwards  than  I  got  to-day." 

"But  wouldn't  it  be  better  to  take  their  advice  and  set  up 
on  the  square?" 

"Get  out !" 

"Since  she  said  she  could  find  some  one  to  stand  security  ?" 

"But  we  should  have  to  give  up  life " 

"I  am  sick  of  'life' — it  is  not  life  to  be  always  working  in 
the  vineyards 

"No;  but  didn't  the  Abbe  throw  over  old  Marin  the  other 
day.  He  wouldn't  give  him  a  thing." 

"Ay,  but  old  Marin  wanted  to  play  such  a  game  as  no  one 
can  win  at  that  has  not  thousands  at  his  back." 

At  this  moment  the  two  men,  who  were  dressed  like  work- 
ing foremen,  suddenly  doubled,  and  retraced  their  steps  to 
cross  the  bridge  by  the  Hotel-Dieu  to  the  Place  Maubert; 
Godefroid  stood  aside ;  but  seeing  that  he  was  following  them 
closely,  the  men  exchanged  looks  of  suspicion,  and  they  were 
evidently  vexed  at  having  spoken  out  so  plainly. 

Godefroid  was  indeed  all  the  more  interested  in  the  con- 
versation because  it  reminded  him  of  the  scene  between  the 
Abbe  de  Veze  and  the  workman  on  the  evening  of  his  first 
call. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  'OF  HISTORY  35 

"What  goes  on  at  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  r"  he  asked 
himself  once  more. 

As  he  thought  over  this  question,  he  made  his  way  to  a 
bookshop  in  the  Eue  Saint-Jacques,  and  returned  home  with 
a  very  handsome  copy  of  the  best  edition  of  The  Imitation 
that  has  been  published  in  France. 

As  he  walked  slowly  homewards  to  be  punctual  to  the 
dinner-hour,  he  went  over  in  his  mind  all  his  experience  of 
the  morning,  and  found  his  soul  singularly  refreshed  by  it. 
He  was  possessed  indeed  by  intense  curiosity,  but  that  curi- 
osity paled  before  an  indefinable  wish;  he  was  attracted  by 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  he  felt  a  vehement  longing  to  attach 
himself  to  her,  to  devote  himself  for  her,  to  please  her  and 
deserve  her  praise;  in  short,  he  was  aware  of  a  Platonic  pas- 
sion; he  felt  that  there  was  unfathomed  greatness  in  that 
soul,  and  that  he  must  learn  to  know  it  thoroughly.  He  was 
eager  to  discover  the  secrets  of  the  life  of  these  pure-minded 
Catholics.  And  then,  in  this  little  congregation  of  the  Faith- 
ful, practical  religion  was  so  intimately  allied  with  all  that 
is  most  majestic  in  the  Frenchwoman,  that  he  resolved  to  do 
his  utmost  to  be  admitted  to  the  fold.  Such  a  vein  of  feeling 
would  have  been  sudden  indeed  in  a  man  of  busy  life;  but 
Godefroid,  as  we  have  seen,  was  in  the  position  of  a  ship- 
wrecked wretch  who  clings  to  the  most  fragile  bough,  hoping 
that  it  may  bear  him,  and  his  soul  was  ploughed  land,  ready 
to  receive  any  seed. 

He  found  the  four  gentlemen  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
he  presented  the  book  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  saying: 

"I  would  not  leave  you  without  a  copy  for  this  evening." 

"God  grant,"  said  she,  looking  at  the  splendid  volume, 
"that  this  may  be  your  last  fit  of  elegance !" 

And  seeing  that  the  four  men  had  reduced  the  smallest 
details  of  their  raiment  to  what  was  strictly  decent  and  useful, 
noticing  too  that  this  principle  was  rigorously  carried  out 
in  every  detail  of  the  house,  Godefroid  understood  the  purpose 
of  this  reproof  so  delicately  expressed. 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "the  men  you  benefited  this  morning 
VOL  16 — 34 


36  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

are  monsters.  Without  intending  it,  I  overheard  what  they 
were  saying  as  they  went  away,  and  it  was  full  of  the  blackest 
ingratitude." 

"The  two  iron-workers  from  the  Rue  Mouffetard,"  said 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie  to  Monsieur  Nicolas,  "that  is  your 
concern " 

"The  fish  gets  off  the  hook  more  than  once  before  it  is 
caught,"  said  Monsieur  Alain,  laughing. 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  entire  indifference  on  hearing 
of  the  immediate  ingratitude  of  the  men  to  whom  she  had 
certainly  given  money  amazed  Godefroid,  who  became 
thoughtful. 

Monsieur  Alain  and  the  old  lawyer  made  the  dinner  a 
cheerful  meal ;  but  the  soldier  was  constantly  grave,  sad,  and 
cold;  his  countenance  bore  the  ineradicable  stamp  of  a  bitter 
sorrow,  a  perennial  grief.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  was 
equally  attentive  to  all.  Godefroid  felt  that  he  was  watched 
by  these  men,  whose  prudence  was  not  less  than  their  piety, 
and  vanity  led  him  to  imitate  their  reserve,  so  he  measured 
his  words  carefully. 

This  first  day,  indeed,  was  far  more  lively  than  those 
which  came  after.  Godefroid,  finding  himself  shut  out  from 
all  serious  matters,  was  obliged,  during  the  early  morning 
and  the  evening  when  he  was  alone  in  his  rooms,  to  read  The 
Imitation  of  Christ,  and  he  finally  studied  it  as  we  must  study 
a  book  when  we  are  imprisoned  with  that  one  alone.  We 
then  feel  to  the  book  as  we  should  towards  a  woman  with 
whom  we  dwelt  in  solitude;  we  must  either  love  or  hate  the 
woman ;  and  in  the  same  way  we  must  enter  into  the  spirit 
of  the  author  or  not  read  ten  lines  of  his  work. 

N"ow  it  is  impossible  not  to  be  held  captive  by  The  Imita- 
tion, which  is  to  dogma  what  action  is  to  thought.  The 
Catholic  spirit  thrills  through  it,  moves  and  works  in  it, 
struggles  in  it  hand  to  hand  with  the  life  of  man.  That 
book  is  a  trusty  friend.  It  speaks  to  every  passion,  to  every 
difficulty,  even  to  the  most  worldly ;  it  answers  every  objection, 
it  is  more  eloquent  than  any  preacher,  for  it  speaks  with  your 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  37 

owu  voice — a  voice  that  rises  from  your  own  heart  and  that 
you  hear  with  your  soul.  In  short,  it  is  the  Gospel  interpreted 
and  adapted  to  all  times  and  seasons,  controlling  every  situa- 
tion. It  is  strange  indeed  that  the  Church  should  not  have 
canonized  Gerson,  for  the  Holy  Spirit  certainly  guided  his 
pen. 

To  Godefroid  the  Hotel  de  la  Chanterie  contained  a  woman 
as  well  as  a  book ;  every  day  he  was  more  and  more  bewitched 
by  her.  In  her  he  found  flowers  buried  under  the  snow  of 
many  winters;  he  had  glimpses  of  such  a  sacred  friendship 
as  religion  sanctions,  as  the  angels  smile  on — as  bound  those 
five,  in  fact — and  against  which  no  evil  could  prevail.  There 
is  a  sentiment  superior  to  all  others,  an  affection  of  soul  for 
soul  which  resembles  those  rare  blossoms  that  grow  on  the 
loftiest  peaks  of  the  earth.  One  or  two  examples  are  shown 
us  in  a  century;  lovers  are  sometime^  united  by  it;  and  it 
accounts  for  certain  faithful  attachments  which  would  be 
inexplicable  by  the  ordinary  laws  of  the  world.  In  such  an 
attachment  there  are  no  disappointments,  no  differences,  no 
vanities,  no  rivalries,  no  contrasts  even,  so  intimately  fused 
are  two  spiritual  natures. 

It  was  this  immense  and  infinite  feeling,  the  outcome  of 
Catholic  charity,  that  Godefroid  was  beginning  to  dream  of. 
At  times  he  could  not  believe  in  the  spectacle  before  his  eyes, 
and  he  sought  to  find  reasons  for  the  sublime  friendships 
between  these  five  persons,  wondering  to  find  true  Catholics, 
Christians  of  the  most  primitive  type,  in  Paris,  and  in  1836. 

A  week  after  entering  the  house,  Godefroid  had  seen  such 
a  number  of  people  come  and  go,  he  had  overheard  fragments 
of  conversation  in  which  such  serious  matters  were  discussed, 
that  he  understood  that  the  existence  of  this  council  of  five 
was  full  of  prodigious  activity.  He  noticed  that  not  one  of 
them  slept  more  than  six  hours  at  most.  Each  of  them  had, 
as  it  were,  lived  through  a  first  day  before  they  met  at  the 
second  breakfast.  Strangers  brought  in  or  carried  away  sums 
of  money,  sometimes  rather  considerable.  Mongenod's  cashier 


38  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

came  very  often,  always  early  in  the  morning,  so  that  his 
work  in  the  bank  should  not  be  interfered  with  by  this  busi- 
ness, which  was  independent  of  the  regular  affairs  of  the 
House. 

One  evening  Monsieur  Mongenod  himself  called,  and  Gode- 
froid observed  a  touch  of  filial  familiarity  in  his  tone  to  Mon- 
sieur Alain,  mingled  with  the  deep  respect  he  showed  to  him, 
as  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  three  other  boarders. 

That  evening  the  banker  only  asked  Godefroid  the  most 
ordinary  questions:  Was  he  comfortable?  Did  he  mean  to 
stay  ?  and  so  forth,  advising  him  to  persevere  in  his  determina- 
tion. 

"There  is  but  one  thing  wanting  to  make  me  happy,"  said 
Godefroid. 

"And  what  is  that?"  said  the  banker. 

"An  occupation."    * 

"An  occupation !"  cried  the  Abbe  de  Veze.  "Then  you 
have  changed  your  mind;  you  came  to  our  retreat  in  search 
of  rest." 

"But  without  prayer,  which  gives  life  to  the  cloister ;  with- 
out meditation,  which  peoples  the  desert,  rest  becomes  a  dis- 
ease," said  Monsieur  Joseph  sententiously. 

"Learn  bookkeeping,"  said  Mongenod,  smiling.  "In  the 
course  of  a  few  months  you  may  be  of  great  use  to  my  friends 
here " 

"Oh,  with  the  greatest  pleasure,"  exclaimed  Godefroid. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  de- 
sired her  boarder  to  give  her  his  arm  and  to  escort  her  to 
High  Mass. 

"This,"  she  said,  "is  the  only  thing  I  desire  to  force  upon 
you.  Many  a  time  during  the  week  I  have  been  moved  to 
speak  to  you  of  your  salvation;  but  I  do  not  think  the  time 
has  come.  You  would  have  plenty  to  occupy  you  if  you  shared 
our  beliefs,  for  you  would  also  share  our  labors." 

At  Mass,  Godefroid  observed  the  fervency  of  Messieurs 
Nicolas,  Joseph,  and  Alain.  Having,  during  these  few  days, 
convinced  himself  of  the  superior  intellect  of  these  three  men, 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  39 

their  perspicacity,  extensive  learning,  and  lofty  spirit,  he 
concluded  that  if  they  could  thus  abase  themselves,  the  Cath- 
olic religion  must  contain  mysteries  which  had  hitherto  es- 
caped his  ken. 

"And,  after  all,"  said  he  to  himself,  "it  is  the  religion  of 
Bossuet,  of  Pascal,  of  Racine,  of  Saint-Louis,  of  Louis  XVI., 
of  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Ximenes,  of  Bayard  and 
du  Guesclin — and  how  should  such  a  poor  creature  as  I  com- 
pare myself  with  these  great  brains,  statesmen,  poets,  war- 
riors  ?" 

Were  it  not  that  a  great  lesson  is  to  be  derived  from  these 
tnvial  details,  it  would  be  foolish  in  such  times  as  these  to 
dwetl  on  them;  but  they  are  indispensable  to  the  interest  of 
this  iiarrative,  which  the  readers  of  our  day  will,  indeed,  find 
it  hard  to  believe,  beginning  as  it  does  by  an  almost  ridiculous 
incident — the  influence  exerted  by  a  woman  of  sixty  over  a 
young  man  who  had  tried  everything  and  found  it  wanting. 

"You  dkl.  not  pray,"  said  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  to  Gode- 
froid  as  they  came  out  of  Notre-Dame.  "Not  for  any  one,  not 
even  for  the  peace  of  your  mother's  soul !" 

Godefroid  reddened,  but  said  nothing. 

"Do  me  the  pioasure,"  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  went  on, 
"to  go  to  your  room,  and  not  to  come  down  to  the  drawing- 
room  for  an  hour.  And  for  the  love  of  me,  meditate  on  a  chap- 
ter of  the  Imitation — the  first  of  the  Third  Book,  entitled  'ON 
CHRIST  SPEAKING  WITHIN  THE  FAITHFUL  SOUL."; 

Godefroid  bowed  ccolly,  and  went  upstairs. 

"The  Devil  take  'em  all !"  he  exclaimed,  now  really  in  a 
rage.  "What  the  deuce  do  they  want  of  me  here  ?  What  game 
are  they  playing?  Pshaw!  Every  woman,  even  the  veriest 
bigot,  is  full  of  tricks,  and  if  Madame"  (the  name  the  board- 
ers gave  their  hostess)  "does  not  want  me  downstairs,  it  is 
because  they  are  plotting  something  against  me." 

With  this  notion  in  his  head,  he  tried  to  look  out  of  his 
own  window  into  that  of  the  drawing-room,  but  the  plan  of 
the  building  did  not  allow  of  it.  Then  he  went  down  one 
flight,  but  hastily  ran  up  sprain;  for  it  struck  him  that  in  a 


40  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

house  where  the  principal  inhabitants  held  such  strict  prin- 
ciples, an  act  of  espionage  would  lead  to  his  immediate  dis- 
missal. Now,  to  lose  the  esteem  of  those  five  persons  seemed 
to  him  as  serious  a  matter  as  public  dishonor. 

He  waited  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  resolved  to 
take  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  by  surprise,  and  to  go  down  a 
little  before  the  time  she  had  named.  He  intended  to  ex- 
cuse himself  by  a  fib,  saying  that  his  watch  was  in  fault,  and 
twenty  minutes  too  fast.  He  went  down  cautiously,  without 
a  sound,  and  on  reaching  the  drawing-room  door  opened  it 
suddenty. 

He  saw  a  man,  still  young  but  already  famous,  a  poet  whom 
he  had  often  met  in  society,  Victor  de  Vernisset,  kneeling  on 
one  knee  before  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  and  kissing  the  hem 
of  her  gown.  The  sky  falling  in  splinters  as  if  it  were  made  of 
crystal,  as  the  ancients  believed,  would  have  amazed  Gode- 
froid  less  than  this  sight.  The  most  shocking  ideas  besieged 
his  brain,  and  the  reaction  was  even  more  terrible  when,  just 
as  he  was  about  to  utter  the  first  sarcasm  that  rose  to  his  lips, 
he  saw  Monsieur  Alain  standing  in  a  corner,  counting  thou- 
sand-franc notes. 

In  an  instant  Vernisset  had  started  to  his  feet.  Good  Mon- 
sieur Alain  stared  in  astonishment.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie 
flashed  a  look  that  petrified  Godefroid,  for  the  doubtful  ex- 
pression in  the  new  boarder's  face  had  not  escaped  her. 

"Monsieur  is  one  of  us,"  she  said  to  the  young  author,  in- 
troducing Godefroid. 

"You  are  a  happy  man,  my  dear  -fellow,"  said  Vernisset. 
"You  are  saved ! — But,  madame,"  he  went  on,  turning  to 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  "if  all  Paris  could  have  seen  me,  I 
should  be  delighted.  Nothing  can  ever  pay  my  debt  to  you. 
I  am  your  slave  for  ever !  I  am  yours,  body  and  soul.  Com- 
mand in  whatever  you  will,  I  will  obey ;  my  gratitude  knows 
no  bounds.  I  owe  you  my  life — it  is  yours." 

"Come,  come,"  said  the  worthy  Alain,  "do  not  be  rash. 
Only  work ;  and,  above  all,  never  attack  religion  in  your  writ- 
ings.— And  remember  you  are  in  debt." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  41 

fle  handed  him  an  envelope  bulging  with  the  banknotes 
he  had  counted  out.  Victor  de  Vernisset's  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  He  respectfully  kissed  Madame  de  la"  Chanterie'a 
hand,  and  went  away  after  shaking  hands  with  Monsieur 
Alain  and  with  Godefroid. 

"You  did  not  obey  Madame,"  said  the  good  man  solemnly ; 
and  his  face  had  an  expression  of  sadness,  such  as  Godefroid 
had  not  yet  seen  on  it.  "That  is  a  capital  crime.  If  it  oc- 
curs again,  we  must  part. — It  would  be  very  hard  on  you, 
after  having  seemed  worthy  of  our  confidence " 

"My  dear  Alain,"  said  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.,  "be  so 
good,  for  my  sake,  as  to  say  nothing  of  this  act  of  folly.  We 
must  not  expect  too  much  of  a  newcomer  who  has  had  no 
great  sorrows,  who  has  no  religion — who  has  nothing,  in 
fact,  but  great  curiosity  concerning  every  vocation,  and  who 
as  yet  does  not  believe  in  us." 

"Forgive  me,  madame,"  replied  Godefroid.  "From  this 
moment  I  will  be  worthy  of  you ;  I  submit  to  every  test  you 
may  think  necessary  before  initiating  me  into  the  secret  of 
your  labors;  and  if  Monsieur  the  Abbe  will  undertake  to  en- 
lighten me,  I  give  myself  up  to  him,  soul  and  reason." 

These  words  made  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  so  happy  that 
a  faint  flush  rose  to  her  cheeks,  she  clasped  Godefroid's  hand 
and  pressed  it,  saying,  with  strange  emotion,  "That  is  well !" 

In  the  evening,  after  dinner,  Godefroid  saw  a  Vicar-Gen- 
eral of  the  Diocese  of  Paris,  who  came  to  call,  two  canons, 
two  retired  mayors  of  Paris,  and  a  lady  who  devoted  herself 
to  the  poor.  There  was  no  gambling;  the  conversation  was 
general,  and  cheerful  without  being  futile. 

A  visitor  who  greatly  surprised  Godefroid  was  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Saint-Cygne,  one  of  the  loftiest  stars  of  the  aristo- 
cratic spheres,  whose  drawing-room  was  quite  inaccessible 
to  the  citizen  class  and  to  parvenus.  The  mere  presence  of 
this  great  lady  in  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  room  was  suffi- 
ciently amazing;  but  the  way  in  which  the  two  women  met 
and  treated  each  other  was  to  Godefroid  quite  inexplicable, 
for  it  bore  witness  to  an  intimacy  and  constant  intercourse 


42  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

which  proved  the  high  merit  of  Madame  de  la  Chanterie. 
Madame  de  Saint- Cygne  was  gracious  and  friendly  to  her 
friend's  four  friends,  and  very  respectful  to  Monsieur  Nico- 
las. 

As  may  be  seen,  social  vanity  still  had  a  hold  on  Godefroid, 
who,  hitherto  undecided,  now  determined  to  yield,  with  or 
without  conviction,  to  everything  Madame  de  la  Chanterie 
and  her  friends  might  require  of  him,  to  succeed  in  being7 
affiliated  by  them  to  their  Order,  or  initiated  into  their  secrets, 
promising  himself  that  until  then  he  would  not  definitely 
commit  himself. 

On  the  following  day,  he  went  to  the  bookkeeper  recom- 
mended by  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  agreed  with  him  as  to 
the  hours  when  they  were  to  work  together,  and  so  disposed 
of  all  his  time ;  for  the  Abbe  de  Veze  was  to  catechize  him  in 
the  morning,  he  spent  two  hours  of  every  day  learning  book- 
keeping, and  between  breakfast  and  dinner  he  worked  at  the 
exercises  and  imaginary  commercial  correspondence  set  him 
by  his  master. 

Some  few  days  thus  passed,  during  which  Godefroid 
learned  the  charm  of  a  Ufe  of  which  every  hour  has  its  em- 
ployment. The  recurrence  of  the  same  duties  at  fixed  hours, 
and  perfect  regularity,  sufficiently  account  for  many  happy 
lives,  and  prove  how  deeply  the  founders  of  religious  orders 
had  meditated  on  human  nature.  Godefroid,  who  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  learn  of  the  Abbe  de  Veze,  had"  already  begun 
to  feel  qualms  as  to  his  future  life,  and  to  discover  that  he 
was  ignorant  of  the  importance  of  religious  matters. 

Finally,  day  by  day,  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  with  whom 
he  always  sat  for  about  an  hour  after  the  second  breakfast, 
revealed  some  fresh  treasures  of  her  nature;  he  had  never 
conceived  of  goodness  so  complete,  so  all-embracing.  A  wo- 
man as  old  as  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  seemed  to  be  has  none 
of  the  triviality  of  a  young  woman ;  she  is  a  friend  who  may 
offer  you  every  feminine  dainty,  who  displays  all  the  grace 
and  refinement  with  which  Nature  inspires  woman  to  please 
man,  but  who  no  longer  asks  for  a  return;  she  may  be  exe- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  43 

crable  or  exquisite,  for  all  her  demands  on  life  are  buried 
beneath  the  skin — or  are  dead;  and  Madame  de  la  Chanterie 
was  exquisite.  She  seemed  never  to  have  been  young;  her 
looks  never  spoke  of  the  past.  Far  from  allaying  his  curi- 
osity, Godefroid's  increased  intimacy  with  this  beautiful  char- 
acter, and  the  discoveries  he  made  day  by  day,  increased  his 
desire  to  know  something  of  the  previous  history  of  the  wo- 
man he  now  saw  as  a  saint.  Had  she  ever  loved?  Had  she 
been  married  ?  Had  she  been  a  mother  ?  There  was  nothing 
in  her  suggestive  of  the  old  maid ;  she  had  all  the  elegance  of 
a  woman  of  birth;  and  her  strong  health,  and  the  extraor- 
dinary charm  of  her  conversation,  seemed  to  reveal  a  heav- 
enly life,  a  sort  of  ignorance  of  the  world.  Excepting  the 
worthy  and  cheerful  Alain,  all  these  persons  had  known  suffer- 
ing; but  Monsieur  Nicolas  himself  seemed  to  give  the  palm 
of  martyrdom  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie;  nevertheless,  the 
memory  of  her  sorrows  was  so  entirely  suppressed  by  Catholic 
resignation,  and  her  secret  occupations,  that  she  seemed  to 
have  been  always  happy. 

"You  are  the  life  of  your  friends,"  said  Godefroid  to  her 
one  day.  "You  are  the  bond  that  unites  them ;  you  are  the 
housekeeper,  so  to  speak,  of  a  great  work;  and  as  we  are  all 
mortal,  I  cannot  but  wonder  what  would  become  of  your 
association  without  you." 

"Yes,  that  is  what  they  fear:  but  Providence — to  whom 
we  owe  our  bookkeeper,"  said  she  with  a  smile — "will  doubt- 
less provide.  However,  I  shall  think  it  over " 

"And  will  your  bookkeeper  soon  find  himself  at  work  for 
your  business?"  asked  Godefroid,  laughing. 

"That  must  depend  on  him,"  she  said  with  a  smile.  "If 
he  is  sincerely  religious,  truly  pious,  has  not  the  smallest  con- 
ceit, does  not  trouble  his  head  about  the  wealth  of  the  estab- 
lishment, and  endeavors  to  rise  superior  to  petty  social  con- 
siderations by  soaring  on  the  wings  God  has  bestowed  on 
us " 

"Which  are  they?" 

"Simplicity  and  purity,"  replied  Madame  de  la  Chanterie. 


44  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Your  ignorance  proves  that  you  neglect  reading  your  book," 
she  added,  laughing  at  the  innocent  trap  she  had  laid  to  dis- 
cover whether  Godefroid  read  the  Imitation  of  Christ.  "Soak 
your  mind  in  Saint  Paul's  chapter  on  Charity.  It  is  not  you 
who  will  be  devoted  to  us,  but  we  to  you,"  she  said  with  a 
lofty  look,  "and  it  will  be  your  part  to  keep  account  of  the 
greatest  riches  ever  possessed  by  any  sovereign ;  you  will  have 
the  same  enjoyment  of  them  as  we  have ;  and  let  me  tell  you,  if 
you  remember  the  Thousand  and  One  lights,  that  the  treas- 
ures of  Aladdin  are  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  ours.  In- 
deed, for  a  year  past,  we  have  not  known  what  to  do;  it  was 
too  much  for  us.  We  needed  a  bookkeeper." 

As  she  spoke  she  studied  Godefroid's  face;  he  knew  not 
what  to  think  of  this  strange  confidence;  but  the  scene  be- 
tween Madame  de  la  Chanterie  and  the  elder  Madame  Monge- 
nod  had  often  recurred  to  him,  and  he  hesitated  between 
doubt  and  belief. 

"Yes,  you  would  be  very  fortunate !"  said  she. 

Godefroid  was  so  consumed  by  curiosity,  that  from  that 
instant  he  resolved  to  undermine  the  reserve  of  the  four 
friends,  and  to  ask  them  about  themselves.  Now,  of  all 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  boarders,  the  one  who  most  at- 
tracted Godefroid,  and  who  was  the  most  fitted  in  all  ways 
to  invite  the  sympathy  of  people  of  every  class,  was  the  kindly, 
cheerful,  and  unaffected  Monsieur  Alain.  By  what  means 
had  Providence  guided  this  simple-minded  being  to  this  sec- 
ular convent,  where  the  votaries  lived  under  rules  as  strictly 
observed,  in  perfect  freedom  and  in  the  midst  of  Paris,  as 
though  they  were  under  the  sternest  of  Priors  ?  What  drama, 
what  catastrophe,  had  made  him  turn  aside  from  his  road 
through  the  world  to  take  a  path  so  hard  to  tread  across  the 
troubles  of  a  great  city? 

One  evening  Godefroid  determined  to  call  on  his  neighbor, 
with  the  purpose  of  satisfying  a  curiosity  which  was  more 
excited  by  the  incredibility  of  any  catastrophe  in  such  a  man's 


•Come  In' 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  45 

life  than  it  could  have  been  by  the  expectation  of  listening  to 
some  terrible  episode  in  the  life  of  a  pirate. 

On  hearing  the  reply,  "Come  in/'  in  answer  to  two  modest 
raps  on  the  door,  Godefroid  turned  the  key,  which  was  always 
in  the  lock,  and  found  Monsieur  Alain  seated  in  his  chimney 
corner,  reading  a  chapter  of  the  Imitation  before  going  to 
bed  by  the  light  of  two  wax  candles  with  green  shades,  such  as 
whist-players  use.  The  worthy  man  had  on  his  trousers  and 
a  dressing-gown  of  thick  gray  flannel ;  his  feet  were  raised  to 
the  level  of  the  fire  on  a  hassock  worked  in  cross-stitch — as 
his  slippers  were  also — by  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  His 
striking  old  head,  with  its  circlet  of  white  hair,  almost  re- 
sembling that  of  an  old  monk,  stood  out,  a  lighter  spot  against 
the  brown  background  of  an  immense  armchair. 

Monsieur  Alain  quietly  laid  his  book,  with  its  worn 'cor- 
ners, on  the  little  table  with  twisted  legs,  while  with  the  other 
hand  he  waved  the  young  man  to  the  second  armchair,  remov- 
ing his  glasses,  which  nipped  the  end  of  his  nose. 

"Are  you  unwell,  that  you  have  come  down  so  late?"  he 
asked. 

"Dear  Monsieur  Alain,"  Godefroid  frankly  replied,  "I  am. 
a  prey  to  curiosity  which  a  single  word  from  you  will  prove 
to  be  very  innocent  or  very  indiscreet,  and  that  is  enough  to 
show  you  in  what  spirit  I  shall  venture  to  ask  a  question." 

"Oh,  ho  !  and  what  is  it  ?"  said  he,  with  an  almost  mischiev- 
ous sparkle  in  his  eye. 

"What  was  the  circumstance  that  induced  you  to  lead  the 
life  you  lead  here?  For  to  embrace  such  a  doctrine  of  utter 
renunciation,  a  man  must  be  disgusted  with  the  world,  must 
have  been  deeply  wounded,  or  have  wounded  others." 

"Why,  why,  my  boy?"  replied  the  old  man,  and  his  full 
lips  parted  in  one  of  those  smiles  which  made  his  ruddy  mouth 
one  of  the  most  affectionate  that  the  genius  of  a  painter  could 
conceive  of.  "May  he  not  feel  touched  to  the  deepest  pity  by 
the  sight  of  the  woes  to  be  seen  within  the  walls  of  Paris? 
Did  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul  need  the  goad  of  remorse  or  of 
wounded  vanity  to  devote  himself  to  foundling  babes?" 


46  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTOR1 

"Such  an  answer  shuts  my  mouth  all  the  more  effectually, 
because  if  ever  a  soul  was  a  match  for  that  of  the  Christian 
hero,  it  is  yours,"  replied  Godefroid. 

In  spite  of  the  thickening  given  by  age  to  his  yellow  and 
wrinkled  face,  the  old  man  colored  crimson,  for  he  might 
seem  to  have  invited  the  eulogium,  though  his  well-known 
modesty  forbade  the  idea  that  he  had  thought  of  it.  Gode- 
froid knew  full  well  that  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  guests  had 
no  taste  for  this  kind  of  incense.  And  yet  good  Monsieur 
Alain's  guilelessness  was  more  distressed  by  this  scruple  than 
a  young  maid  would  have  been  by  some  evil  suggestion. 

"Though  I  am  far  from  resembling  him  in  spirit,"  replied 
Monsieur  Alain,  "I  certainly  am  like  him  in  appearance — 

Godefroid  was  about  to  speak,  but  was  checked  by  a  ges- 
ture from  the  old  man,  whose  nose  had  in  fact  the  bulbous 
appearance  of  the  Saint's,  and  whose  face,  much  like  that  of 
some  old  vinedresser,  was  the  very  duplicate  of  the  coarse, 
common  countenance  of  the  founder  of  the  Foundling  Hos- 
pital. "As  to  that,  you  are  right,"  he  went  on ;  "my  vocation 
to  this  work  was  the  result  of  an  impulse  of  repentance  in 
consequence  of  an  adventure — 

"An  adventure  !  You !"  said  Godefroid  softly,  who  at  this 
word  forgot  what  he  had  been  about  to  say. 

"Oh,  the  story  I  have  to  tell  will  seem  to  you  a  mere  trifle, 
a  foolish  business;  but  before  the  tribunal  of  conscience  it 
looked  different.  If,  after  having  heard  me,  you  persist -in 
yoiir  wish  to  join  in  our  labors,  you  will  understand  that  feel- 
ings are  in  inverse  proportion  to  our  strength  of  soul,  and  that 
a  matter  which  would  not  trouble  a  Freethinker  may  greatly 
weigh  on  a  feeble  Christian." 

After  this  prelude,  the  neophyte's  curiosity  had  risen  to  an 
indescribable  pitch.  What  could  be  the  crime  of  this  good 
soul  whom  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  had  nicknamed  her 
Paschal  Lamb?  It  was  as  exciting  as  a  book  entitled  The 
Crimes  of  a  Sheep.  Sheep,  perhaps,  are  ferocious  to  the  grass 
and  flowers.  If  we  listen  to  one  of  the  mildest  republicans  of 
our  day,  the  best  creatures  living  are  cruel  to  something.  But 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  41 

good  Monsieur  Alain !  He,  who,  like  Sterne's  Uncle  Toby, 
would  not  crush  a  fly  when  it  had  stung  him  twenty  times! 
This  beautiful  soul — tortured  by  repentance ! 

These  reflections  filled  up  the  pause  made  by  the  old  man 
after  he  had  said,  "Listen,  then !"  and  during  which  he 
pushed  forward  the  footstool  under  Godefroid's  feet  that  they 
might  share  it. 

"I  was  a  little  over  thirty,"  said  he ;  "it  was  in  the  year  '98, 
so  far  as  I  recollect,  a  time  when  young  men  of  thirty  had 
the  experience  of  men  of  sixty.  One  morning,  a  little  before 
my  breakfast  hour  at  nine  o'clock,  my  old  housekeeper  an- 
nounced one  of  the  few  friends  left  to  me  by  the  storms  of 
the  Eevolution.  So  my  first  words  were  to  ask  him  to  break- 
fast. My  friend,  whose  name  was  Mongenod,  a  young  fellow 
of  eight-and-twenty,  accepted,  but  with  some  hesitancy.  I 
had  not  seen  him  since  1793 " 

"Mongenod!"  cried  Godefroid,  "the ?" 

"If  you  want  to  know  the  end  of  the  story  before  the  be- 
ginning," the  old  man  put  in  with  a  smile,  "how  am  I  to  tell 
it?" 

Godefroid  settled  himself  with  an  air  that  promised  perfect 
silence. 

"When  Mongenod  had  seated  himself,"  the  good  man  went 
on,  "I  observed  that  his  shoes  were  dreadfully  worn.  His 
spotted  stockings  had  been  so  often  washed,  that  it  was  hard 
to  recognize  that  they  were  of  silk.  His  knee-breeches  were 
of  nankeen-colored  kerseymere,  so  faded  as  to  tell  of  long 
wear,  emphasized  by  stains  in  many  places,  and  their  buckles, 
instead  of  steel,  seemed  to  me  to  be  of  common  iron ;  his  shoe- 
buckles  were  to  match.  His  flowered  white  waistcoat,  yellow 
with  long  use,  his  shirt  with  its  frayed  pleated  frill,  revealed 
extreme  though  decent  poverty.  Finally,  his  coat — a  houppe- 
lande,  as  we  called  such  a  coat,  with  a  single  collar  like  a  very 
short  cape — was  enough  to  assure  me  that  my  friend  had 
fallen  on  bad  times.  This  coat  of  nut-brown  cloth,  extremely 
threadbare,  and  bmshed  with  excessive  care,  had  a  rim  of 
grease  or  powder  round  the  collar,  and  buttons  off  which  the 


48  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

plating  had  worn  to  the  copper.  In  fact,  the  whole  outfit  was 
so  wretched,  that  I  could  not  bear  to  look  at  it.  His  crush 
hat — a  semicircular  structure  of  beaver,  which  it  was  then 
customary  to  carry  under  one  arm  instead  of  wearing  it  on 
the  head — must  have  survived  many  changes  of  government. 

"However,  my  friend  had  no  doubt  just  spent  a  few  sous 
to  have  his  head  dressed  by  a  barber,  for  he  was  freshly  shaved, 
and  his  hair,  fastened  into  a  club  with  a  comb,  was  luxuriously 
powdered,  and  smelled  of  pomatum.  I  could  see  two  chains 
hanging  parallel  out  of  his  fobs,  chains  of  tarnished  steel, 
but  no  sign  of  the  watches' within.  It  was  winter,  but  Monge- 
nod  had  no  cloak,  for  some  large  drops  of  melting  snow 
fallen  from  the  eaves  under  which  he  had  walked  for  shelter 
lay  on  the  collar  of  his  coat.  When  he  drew  off  his  rabbit- 
fur  gloves  and  I  saw  his  right  hand,  I  could  perceive  the 
traces  of  some  kind  of  hard  labor. 

"Now,  his  father,  an  advocate  in  the  higher  court,  had  left 
him  some  little  fortune — five  or  six  thousand  francs  a  year. 
I  at  once  understood  that  Mongenod  had  come  to  borrow  of 
me.  I  had  in  a  certain  hiding-place  two  hundred  louis  in 
gold,  an  enormous  sum  at  that  time,  when  it  represented  I 
know  not  how  many  hundred  thousand  francs  in  paper  as- 
signats. 

"Mongenod  and  I  had  been  schoolfellows  at  the  College  des 
Grassins,  and  we  had  been  thrown  together  again  in  the  same 
lawyer's  office — an  honest  man,  the  worthy  Bordin.  When 
two  men  have  spent  their  boyhood  together  and  shared  the 
follies  of  their  youth,  there  is  an  almost  sacred  bond  of  sym- 
pathy between  them;  the  man's  voice  and  look  stir  certain 
chords  in  your  heart,  which  never  vibrate  but  to  the  particular 
memories  that  he  can  rouse.  Even  if  you  have  some  cause  to 
complain  of  such  a  comrade,  that  does  not  wipe  out  every 
claim  of  friendship,  and  between  us  there  had  not  been  the 
slightest  quarrel. 

"In  1787,  when  his  father  died,  Mongenod  had  been  a 
richer  man  than  I:  and  though  I  had  never  borrowed  from 
him,  I  had  owed  to  Mm  certain  pleasures  which  my  father's 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  49 

strictness  would  have  prohibited.  But  for  my  friend's  gen- 
erosity, I  should  not  have  seen  the  first  performance  of  the 
Marriage  of  Figaro. 

"Mongenod  was  at  that  time  what  was  called  a  finished 
gentleman,  a  man  about  town  and  attentive  to  'the  ladies.'  I 
constantly  reproved  him  for  his  too  great  facility  in  making 
friends  and  obliging  them ;  his  purse  was  constantly  open,  he 
lived  largely,  he  would  have  stood  surety  for  you  after  meet- 
ing you  twice. — Dear  me,  dear  me !  You  have  started  me  on 
reminiscences  of  my  youth !"  cried  Monsieur  Alain,  .with  a 
bright  smile  at  Godefroid  as  he  paused. 

"You  are  not  vexed  with  me?"  said  Godefroid. 

"No,  no.  And  you  may  judge  by  the  minute  details  I  am 
giving  you  how  large  a  place  the  event  filled  in  my  life. — 
Mongenod,  with  a  good  heart  and  plenty  of  courage,  some- 
thing of  a  Voltairean,  was  inclined  to  play  the  fine  gentle- 
man," Monsieur  Alain  went  on.  "His  education  at  the  Gras- 
sins,  where  noblemen's  sons  were  to  be  met,  and  his  adventures 
of  gallantry,  had  given  him  the  polish  of  men  of  rank,  in 
those  days  termed  Aristocrats.  So  you  may  imagine  how 
great  was  my  consternation  at  observing  in  Mongenod  such 
signs  of  poverty  as  degraded  him  in  my  eyes  from  the  elegant 
young  Mongenod  I  had  known  in  1787,  when  my  eyes  wan- 
dered from  his  face  to  examine  his  clothes. 

"However,  at  that  time  of  general  public  penury,  some  wily 
folks  assumed  an  appearance  of  wretchedness;  and  as  others 
no  doubt  had  ample  reasons  for  assuming  a  disguise,  I  hoped 
for  some  explanation,  and  invited  it. 

"  'What  a  plight  you  are  in,  my  dear  Mongenod !'  said  I, 
accepting  a  pinch  of  snuff,  which  he  offered  me  from  a  box  of 
imitation  gold. 

"  'Sad  enough !'  replied  he.  'I  have  but  one  friend  left — 
and  you  are  that  friend.  I  have  done  everything  in  the  world 
to  avoid  coming  to  this  point,  but  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to 
lend  me  a  hundred  louis.  It  is  a  large  sum/  said  he,  noticing 
my  surprise,  'but  if  you  lend  me  no  more  than  fifty,  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  repay  you;  whereas,  if  I  should  fail  in  what 


50 

I  am  undertaking,  I  shall  still  have  fifty  louis  to  try  some 
other  road  to  fortune,  and  I  do  not  yet  know  what  inspira- 
tion despair  may  bring  me/ 

"  'Then,  have  you  nothing  ?'  said  I. 

"  'I  have/  said  he,  hiding  a  tear,  'just  five  sous  left  out  of 
my  last  piece  of  silver.  To  call  on  you,  I  had  my  boots  cleaned 
and  my  head  dressed.  I  have  the  clothes  on  my  back. — But,' 
he  went  on,  with  a  desperate  shrug,  'I  owe  my  landlady  a 
thousand  crowns  in  assignats,  and  the  man  at  the  cookshop 
yesterday  refused  to  trust  me.  So  I  have  nothing — nothing/ 

"  'And  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?'  said  I,  insistently  med- 
dling with  his  private  affairs. 

"  'To  enlist  if  you  refuse  to  help  me/ 

"  'You,  a  soldier  !     You — Mongenod  !" 

"  'I  will  get  killed,  or  I  will  be  General  Mongenod/ 

'"Well/  said  I,  really  moved,  'eat  your  breakfast  in  peace; 
I  have  a  hundred  louis ' 

"And  here,"  said  the  good  man,  looking  slily  at  Godefroid, 
"I  thought  it  necessary  to  tell  a  little  lender's  fib. 

"  'But  it  is  all  I  have  in  the  world/  I  said  to  Mongenod. 
'I  was  waiting  till  the  funds  had  gone  down  to  the  lowest  mark 
to  invest  my  money,  but  I  will  place  it  in  your  hands,  and  you 
may  regard  me  as  your  partner;  I  leave  it  to  your  conscience 
to  repay  me  the  whole  in  due  time  and  place.  An  honest 
man's  conscience/  I  added,  'is  the  best  possible  security/ 

"Mongenod  looked  hard  at  me  as  I  spoke,  seeming  to  stamp 
my  words  on  his  heart.  He  held  out  his  right  hand,  T  gave 
him  my  left,  and  we  clasped  hands — I,  greatly  moved,  and 
he,  without  restraining  two  tears  which  now  trickled  down 
his  thin  cheeks.  The  sight  of  those  tears  wrung  my  heart; 
and  I  was  still  more  unnerved  when,  forgetful  of  everything 
in  such  a  moment,  Mongenod,  to  wipe  them  away,  pulled  out  a 
ragged  bandana. 

"  'Wait  here/  said  I,  running  off  to  my  hidden  store,  my 
heart  as  full  as  though  I  had  heard  a  woman  confess  that  she 
loved  me.  I  returned  with  two  rolls  of  fifty  louis  each. 

"  'Here — count  them/ 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  51 

"But  he  would  not  count  them ;  he  looked  about  him  for  a 
writing-table  in  order,  as  he  said,  to  give  me  a  receipt.  I 
positively  refused  to  have  one. 

"  'If  I  were  to  die,'  said  I,  'my  heirs  would  worry  you.  This 
is  a  matter  between  you  and  me/ 

"Finding  me  so  true  a  friend,  Mongenod  presently  lost 
the  haggard  and  anxious  expression  he  had  worn  on  entering, 
and  became  cheerful.  My  housekeeper  gave  us  oysters,  white 
wine,  an  omelette,  kidneys  a  la  brochette,  and  the  remains 
of  a  pate  de  Chartres  sent  me  by  my  mother ;  a  little  dessert, 
coffee,  and  West  Indian  liqueur.  Mongenod,  who  had  fasted 
for  two  days,  was  the  better  for  it.  We  sat  till  three  in  the 
afternoon  talking  over  our  life  before  the  Revolution,  the 
best  friends  in  the  world. 

"Mongenod  told  me  how  he  had  lost  his  fortune.  In  the 
first  instance,  the  reduction  of  the  dividends  on  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  had  deprived  him  of  two-thirds  of  his  income,  for  his 
father  had  invested  the  larger  part  of  his  fortune  in  munici- 
pal securities;  then,  after  selling  his  house  in  the  Rue  de 
Savoie,  he  had  been  obliged  to  accept  payment  in  assignats; 
he  had  then  taken  it  into  his  head  to  run  a  newspaper,  La 
Sentinelle,  and  at  the  end  of  six  months  was  forced  to  fly.  At 
the  present  moment  all  his  hopes  hung  on  the  success  of  a 
comic  opera  called  Les  Peruvians.  This  last  confession  made 
me  quake.  Mongenod,  as  an  author,  having  spent  his  all  on 
the  Sentinelle,  and  living  no  doubt  at  the  theatre,  mixed  up 
with  Feydeau's  singers,  with  musicians,  and  the  motley  world 
behind  the  curtain,  did  not  seem  to  me  like  the  same,  like  my 
Mongenod.  I  shuddered  a  little.  But  how  could  I  get  back 
my  hundred  louis?  I  could  see  the  two  rolls,  one  in  each 
fob  like  the  barrel  of  a  pistol. 

"^fongenod  went  away.  When  I  found  myself  alone,  no 
longer  face  to  face  with  his  bitter  and  cruel  poverty,  I  began 
to  reflect  in  spite  of  myself :  I  was  sober  again.  'Mongonod/ 
thought  I  to  myself,  'has  no  doubt  sunk  as  low  as  possible; 
he  has  acted  a  little  farce  for  my  benefit !'  His  glee  when  he 
saw  me  calmly  hand  over  so  vast  a  sum  now  struck  me  as  that 
VOL.  16—35 


52  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

of  a  stage  rascal  cheating  some  Geronte.  I  ended  where  I 
ought  to  have  begun,  resolved  to  make  some  inquiries  about 
my  friend  Mongenod,  who  had  written  his  address  on  the 
back  of  a  playing-card. 

"A  feeling  of  delicacy  kept  me  from  going  to  see  him  the 
next  day ;  he  might  have  ascribed  my  haste  to  distrust  of  him. 
Two  days  after  I  found  my  whole  time  absorbed  by  various 
business;  and  it  was  not,  in  fact,  till  a  fortnight  had  elapsed 
that,  seeing  no  more  of  Mongenod,  I  made  my  way  from  La 
Croix-Rouge,  where  I  then  lived,  to  the  Rue  des  Moineaux, 
where  he  lived. 

"Mongenod  was  lodged  in  a  furnished  house  of  the  mean- 
est description;  but  his  landlady  was  a  very  decent  woman,  the 
widow  of  a  farmer-general  who  had  died  on  the  scaffold.  She, 
completely  ruined,  had  started  with  a  few  louis  the  precarious 
business  of  letting  rooms.  Since  then  she  has  rented  seven 
houses  in  the  neighborhood  of  Saint-Roch  and  made  a  for- 
tune. 

"  'Citizen  Mongenod  is  out/  said  she.  'But  there  is  some 
one  at  home/ 

"This  excited  my  curiosity.  I  climbed  to  the  fifth  floor. 
A  charming  young  woman  opened  the  door !  Oh !  A  person 
of  exquisite  beauty,  who,  looking  at  me  doubtfully,  stood 
behind  the  partly  opened  door. 

"  'I  am  Alain,'  said  I,  'Mongenod's  friend.' 

"At  once  the  door  was  wide  open,  and  I  went  into  a  hor- 
rible garret,  which  the  young  woman  had,  however,  kept  scru- 
pulously clean.  She  pushed  forward  a  chair  to  the  hearth 
piled' with  ashes,  but  with  no  fire,  where  in  one  corner  I  saw 
a  common  earthenware  fire-pan.  The  cold  was  icy. 

"  'I  am  glad  indeed,  monsieur,'  said  she,  taking  my  hands 
and  pressing  them  warmly,  'to  be  able  to  express  my  grati- 
tude, for  you  are  our  deliverer.  But  for  you  I  might  never 
have  seen  Mongenod  again.  He  would  have — God  know?— 
have  thrown  himself  into  the  river.  He  was  desperate  when 
he  set  out  to  see  you.' 

"As  I  looked  at  the  young  lady  I  was  greatly  astonished 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  53 

to  see  that  she  had  a  handkerchief  bound  about  her  head ;  and 
below  its  folds  at  the  back  and  on  the  temples  there  was  a 
sort  of  black  shadow.  Studying  it  attentively,  I  discovered 
that  her  head  was  shaved. 

"  'Are  you  ill  ?'  I  asked,  noticing  this  strange  fact. 

"She  glanced  at  herself  in  a  wretched  dirty  pier-glass,  and 
colored,  while  tears  rose  to  her  eyes.- 

"  'Yes,  monsieur,'  said  she  hastily ;  'I  had  dreadful  head- 
aches; I  was  obliged  to  cut  off  my  hair,  which  fell  to  my 
heels— 

"  'Have  I  the  honor  of  speaking  to  Madame  Mongenod  ?' 
I  asked. 

"  'Yes,  monsieur,'  said  she,  with  a  really  heavenly  expres- 
sion. 

"I  made  my  bow  to  the  poor  little  lady,  and  went  down- 
stairs, intending  to  make  the  landlady  give  me  some  informa- 
tion, but  she  was  gone  out.  It  struck  me  that  the  young  wo- 
man had  sold  her  hair  to  buy  bread.  I  went  off  at  once  to  a 
wood  merchant,  and  sent  in  half  a  load  of  wood,  begging 
the  carter  and  the  sawyers  to  give  the  lady  a  receipted  bill  to 
the  name  of  Mongenod. 

"And  there  ends  the  phase  of  my  life  which  I  long  called 
my  foolish  stage,"  said  Monsieur  Alain,  clasping  his  hands 
and  uplifting  them  a  little  with  a  repentant  gesture. 

Godefroid  could  not  help  smiling;  but  he  was,  as  will  be 
seen,  quite  wrong  to  smile. 

"Two  days  later,"  the  good  man  went  on,  "I  met  one  of 
those  men  who  are  neither  friends  nor  strangers — persons 
whom  we  see  from  time  to  time,  in  short,  an  acquaintance,  as 
we  say — a  Monsieur  Barillaud,  who,  as  we  happened  to  speak 
of  Les  Peruviens,  proclaimed  himself  a  friend  of  the  author's. 

"  'Thou  know'st  Citizen  Mongenod  ?'  said  I — for  at  that 
time  we  were  still  required  by  law  to  address  each  other  with 
the  familiar  tu,"  said  he  to  Godefroid  in  a  parenthesis. 

"The  citizen  looked  at  me,"  said  Monsieur  Alain,  resum- 
ing the  thread  of  his  story,  "and  exclaimed  : 

"  'I  only  wish  I  had  never  known  him,  for  he  has  borrowed 


54  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

money  of  me  many  a  time,  and  is  so  much  my  friend  as  not 
to  return  it.  He  is  a  queer  fellow !  the  best  old  boy  alive,  but 
full  of  illusions? — An  imagination  of  fire. — I  will  do  him 
justice ;  he  does  not  mean  to  be  dishonest,  only  as  he  is  always 
deceiving  himself  about  a  thousand  things,  he  is  led  into 
conduct  that  is-  not  altogether  straight.' 

"  'How  much  does  he  owe  you  ?' 

"  'Oh,  a  few  hundred  crowns.  He  is  a  regular  sieve.  No 
one  knows  where  his  money  goes,  for  he  perhaps  does  not 
know  that  himself.' 

"  'Has  he  any  expedients  ?' 

"  'Oh,  dear,  yes !'  said  Barillaud,  laughing.  'At  this  mo- 
ment he  is  talking  of  buying  up  land  among  the  wild  men  in 
the  United  States.' 

"I  went  away  with  this  drop  of  vitriol  shed  by  slander  on 
my  heart  to  turn  all  my  best  feelings  sour.  I  went  to  call  on 
my  old  master  in  the  law,  who  was  always  my  counselor.  As 
soon  as  I  had  told  him  the  secret  of  my  loan  to  Mongenod, 
and  the  way  in  which  I  had  acted : 

"  'What,'  cried  he,  'is  it  a  clerk  of  mine  that  can  behave  so  ? 
You  should  have  put  him  off  a  day  and  have  come  to  me. 
Then  you  would  have  known  that  I  had  shown  Mongenod  the 
door.  He  has  already  borrowed  from  me  in  the  course  of  a 
year  more  than  a  hundred  crowns  in  silver,  an  enormous  sum  ! 
And  only  three  days  before  he  went  to  breakfast  with  you, 
he  met  me  in  the  street  and  described  his  misery  in  such  des- 
perate language  that  I  gave  him  two  louis.' 

"  'Well,  if  ]*  am  the  dupe  of  a  clever  actor,  so  much  the 
worse  for  him  rather  than  for  me !'  said  I.  'But  what  is  to  be 
done  ?' 

"  'At  any  rate,  you  must  try  to  get  some  acknowledgment 
out  of  him,  for  a  debtor  however  worthless  may  recover  him- 
self, and  then  you  may  be  paid.' 

"Thereupon  Bordin  took  out  of  one  of  the  drawers  of  his 
table  a  wrapper  on  which  was  written  the  name  of  Mongenod ; 
he  showed  me  three  acknowledgments,  each  for  a  hundred 
livres. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  53 

"  'The  first  time  he  comes,'  said  he,  'I  shall  make  him  add 
on  the  interest  and  the  two  louis  I  gave  him,  and  whatever 
money  he  asks  for;  and  then  he  must  sign  an  acceptance 
and  a  statement,  saying  that  interest  accrues  from  the  first 
day  of  the  loan.  That,  at  any  rate,  will  be  all  in  order;  I 
shall  have  some  means  of  getting  paid.' 

"  'Well,  then,'  said  I  to  Bordin,  'cannot  you  put  me  as 
much  in  order  as  yourself?  For  you  are  an  honest  man,  and 
what  you  do  will  be  right.' 

"  'In  this  way  I  remain  the  master  of  the  field/  replied  the 
lawyer.  'When  a  man  behaves  as  you  have  done,  he  is  at  the 
mercy  of  another  who  may  simply  make  game  of  him.  Now 
I  don't  choose  to  be  laughed  at.  A  retired  Public  Prosecutor 
of  the  Chatelet !  Bless  me,  what  next ! — Every  man  to  whom 
you  lend  money  as  recklessly  as  you  lent  it  to  Mongenod, 
sooner  or  later  thinks  of  it  as  his  own.  It  is  no  longer  your 
money ;  it  is  his  money ;  you  are  his  creditor,  a  very  inconven- 
ient person.  The  debtor  then  tries  to  be  quit  of  you  by  a 
compromise  with  his  conscience,  and  seventy-five  out  of  every 
hundred  will  try  to  avoid  meeting  you  again  to  the  end  of  his 
days ' 

"  'Then  you  look  for  no  more  than  twenty-five  per  cent  of 
honest  men  ?' 

"  'Did  I  say  so  ?'  said  he,  with  an  ironical  smile.  'That  is 
a  large  allowance !' 

"A  fortnight  later  I  had  a  note  from  Bordin  desiring  me 
to  call  on  him  to  fetch  my  receipt.  I  went. 

"  'I  tried  to  snatch  back  fifty  louis  for  you/  said  he. — I 
had  told  him  all  about  my  conversation  with  Mongenod. — • 
'But  the  birds  are  flown.  You  may  say  good-bye  to  your  yel- 
low-boys !  Your  canary-birds  have  fled  to  warmer  climes. 
We  have  a  very  cunning  rascal  to  deal  with.  Did  he  not  as- 
sure me  that  his  wife  and  his  father-in-law  had  set  out  for 
the  United  States  with  sixty  of  your  louis  to  buy  land,  and 
that  he  intended  to  join  them  there?  To  make  a  fortune,  as 
he  said,  so  as  to  return  to  pay  his  debts,  of  which  he  handed 
me  the  schedule  drawn  out  in  due  form ;  for  he  begged  me  to 


56  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

keep  myself  informed  as  to  what  became  of  his  creditors. 
Here  is  the  schedule/  added  Bordin,  showing  me  a  wrapper 
on  which  was  noted  the  total.  'Seventeen  thousand  francs 
in  hard  cash !  With  such  a  sum  as  that  a  house  might  be 
bought  worth  two  thousand  crowns  a  year.' 

"After  replacing  the  packet,  he  gave  me  a  bill  of  exchange 
for  a  sum  equivalent  to  a  hundred  louis  in  gold,  stated  in 
assignats,  with  a  letter  in  which  Mongenod  acknowledged  the 
debt  with  interest  on  a  hundred  louis  d'or. 

"  'So  now  I  am  all  safe  ?'  said  I  to  Bordin. 

"  'He  will  not  deny  the  debt/  replied  my  old  master.  'But 
where  there  are  no  effects,  the  King — that  is  to  say,  the  Di- 
rectoire — has  no  rights.' 

"I  thereupon  left  him.  Believing  myself  to  have  been 
robbed  by  a  trick  that  evades  the  law,  I  withdrew  my  esteem 
from  Mongenod,  and  was  very  philosophically  resigned. 

"It  is  not  without  a  reason  that  I  dwell  on  these  common- 
place and  apparently  unimportant  details,"  the  good  man 
went  on,  looking  at  Godefroid.  "I  am  trying  to  show  you 
how  I  was  led  to  act  as  most  men  act,  blindly,  and  in  contempt 
of  certain  rules  which  even  savages  do  not  disregard  in  the 
most  trifling  matters.  Many  men  would  justify  themselves 
by  the  authority  of  Bordin;  but  at  this  day  I  feel  that  I  had 
no  excuse.  As  soon  as  we  are  led  to  condemn  one  of  our  fel- 
lows, and  to  refuse  him  our  esteem  for  life,  we  ought  to  rely 
solely  on  our  own  judgment — and  even  then ! — Ought  we  to 
set  up  our  own  feelings  as  a  tribunal  before  which  to  arraign 
our  neighbor?  Where  would  the  law  be?  What  should  be 
our  standard  of  merit?  Would  not  a  weakness  in  me  be 
strength  in  my  neighbor?  So  many  men,  so  many  different 
circumstances  would  there  be  for  each  deed ;  for  there  are  no 
two  identical  sets  of  conditions  in  human  existence.  Society 
alone  has  the  right  of  reproving  its  members;  for  I  do  not 
grant  it  that  of  punishing  them.  A  mere  reprimand  is  suffi- 
cient, and  brings  with  it  cruelty  enough. 

"So  as  I  listened  to  the  haphazard  opinions  of  a  Parisian, 
admiring  my  former  teacher's  acumen,  I  condemned  Monge- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  57 

nod/'  the  good  man  went  on,  after  drawing  from  his  narra- 
tive this  noble'  moral. 

"The  performance  of  Les  Peruviens  was  announced.  I 
expected  to  have  a  ticket  for  the  first  night;  I  conceived  my- 
self in  some  way  his  superior.  As  a  result  of  his  indebtedness, 
my  friend  seemed  to  me  a  vassal  who  owed  me  many  things  be- 
sides the  interest  on  my  money.  We  are  all  alike ! 

"Not  only  did  Mongenod  send  me  no  ticket,  but  I  saw  him 
at  a  distance  coming  along  the  dark  passage  under  the  The- 
atre Feydeau,  well  dressed — nay,  almost  elegant;  he  affected 
not  to  see  me;  then,  when  he  had  passed  me,  and  I  thought 
I  would  run  after  him,  he  had  vanished  down  some  cross  pas- 
sage. This  irritated  me  extremely;  and  my  annoyance,  far 
from  being  transient,  increased  as  time  went  on. 

"This  was  why.  A  few  days  after  this  incident  I  wrote 
to  Mongenod  much  in  these  words: 

"  'MY  FRIEND, — You  should  not  regard  me  as  indifferent 
to  anything  that  can  happen  to  you,  whether  for  good  or  ill. 
Does  the  Peruviens  come  up  to  your  expectations?  You  for- 
got me — you  had  every  right  to  do  so — at  the  first  perform- 
ance, when  I  should  have  applauded  you  heartily !  However, 
I  hope,  all  the  same,  that  you  may  find  Peru  in  the  piece,  for 
I  can  invest  my  capital,  and  I  count  on  you  when  the  bill  falls 
due. — Your  friend,  ALAIN.' 

"After  waiting  for  a  fortnight  and  receiving  no  answer,  I 
called  in  the  Kue  des  Moineaux.  The  landlady  told  me  that 
the  little  wife  had,  in  fact,  set  out  with  her  father,  at  the 
date  named  by  Mongenod  to  Bordin.  Mongenod  always  left 
his  garret  early  in  the  morning,  and  did  not  come  in  till  late 
at  night.  Another  fortnight  passed ;  I  wrote  another  letter  in 
these  terms : 

"  'MY  DEAR  MONGENOD, — I  see  nothing  of  you ;  you  do  not 
answer  my  notes;  I  cannot  at  all  understand  your  conduct; 
and  if  I  were  to  behave  so  to  you,  what  would  you  think  of 
me?' 


58  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"I  did  not  sign  myself  'Your  friend.'  I  wrote  'With  best 
regards.' 

"A  month  slipped  by;  no  news  of  Mongenod.  The  Peru- 
viens  had  not  obtained  so  great  a  success  as  Mongenod  had 
counted  on.  I  paid  for  a  seat  at  the  twentieth  performance, 
and  I  found  a  small  house.  And  yet  Madame  Scio  was  very 
fine  in  it.  I  was  told  in  the  foyer  that  there  would  be  a  few 
more  performances  of  the  piece.  I  went  seven  times  to  call 
on  Mongenod;  he  was  never  at  home,  and  each  time  I  left 
my  name  with  the  landlady.  So  then  I  wrote  again : 

"'Monsieur,  if  you  do  not  wish  to  lose  my  respect  after 
forfeiting  my  friendship,  you  will  henceforth  treat  me  as  a 
stranger — that  is  to  say,  with  civility — and  you  will  tell  me 
whether  you  are  prepared  to  pay  me  when  your  note  of  hand 
falls  due.  I  shall  act  in  accordance  with  your  reply. — Yours 
faithfully.  ALAIN.' 

"No  reply.  It  was  now  1799;  a  year  had  elapsed  all  but 
two  months. 

"When  the  bill  fell  due  I  went  to  see  Bordin.  Bordin  took 
the  note  of  hand,  and  then  took  legal  proceedings.  The  re- 
verses experienced  by  the  French  armies  had  had  such  a  de- 
pressing effect  on  the  funds  that  five  francs  a  year  could  be 
purchased  for  seven  francs.  Thus,  for  a  hundred  louis  in  gold, 
I  might  have  had  nearly  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year.  Every 
morning,  as  I  read  the  paper  over  my  cup  of  coffee,  I  would 
exclaim : 

"Confound  that  Mongenod !  But  for  him,  I  could  have  a 
thousand  crowns  a  year !' 

"Mongenod  had  become  my  chronic  aversion;  I  thundered 
at  him  even  when  I  was  walking  in  the  street. 

"  'Bordin  is  after  him !'  said  I  to  myself.  'He  will  catch 
him — and  serve  him  right !' 

"My  rage  expended  itself  in  imprecations;  I  cursed  the 
man;  I  believed  him  capable  of  any  crime.  Yes!  Monsieur 
Barillaud  was  quite  right  in  what  he  said: 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  59 

"Well,  one  morning  my  debtor  walked  in,  no  more  discon- 
certed than  if  he  had  not  owed  me  a  centime;  and  I,  when  I 
saw  him,  I  felt  all  the  shame  that  should  have  been  his.  I 
was  like  a  criminal  caught  in  the  act ;  I  was  quite  ill  at  ease. 
The  18th  of  Brumaire  was  past,  everything  was  going  on  well, 
and  Bonaparte  had  set  out  to  fight  the  battle  of  Marengo. 

"'It  is  unlucky,  monsieur,'  said  I,  'that  I  should  owe  your 
visit  solely  to  the  intervention  of  a  bailiff.' 

"Mongenod  took  a  chair  and  sat  down. 

"  'I  have  come  to  tell  you,'  said  he,  with  the  familiar  tu, 
'that  I  cannot  possibly  pay  you.' 

"  'You  have  lost  me  the  chance  of  investing  my  money  be- 
fore the  arrival  of  the  First  Consul — at  that  time  I  could 
have  made  a  little  fortune " 

"  'I  know  it,  Alain,'  said  he ;  'I  know  it.  But  what  will 
you  get  by  prosecuting  me  for  debt  and  plunging  me  deeper 
by  loading  me  with  costs?  I  have  letters  from  my  father-in- 
law  and  my  wife;  they  have  bought  some  land  and  sent  me 
the  bill  for  the  necessaries  of  the  house ;  I  have  had  to  spend 
all  I  had  in  those  purchases.  Now,  and  nobody  can  hinder  me 
—I  mean  to  sail  by  a  Dutch  vessel  from  Flushing,  whither  I 
have  sent  all  my  small  possessions.  Bonaparte  has  won  the 
battle  of  Marengo,  peace  will  be  signed,  and  I  can  join  my 
family  without  fear — for  my  dear  little  wife  was  expecting  a 
baby.' 

"  'And  so  you  have  sacrificed  me  to  your  own  interests  ?' 
cried  I. 

"'Yes,'  said  he;  'I  thought  you  my  friend.' 

"At  that  moment  I  felt  small  as  compared  to  Mongenod, 
so  sublime  did  that  speech  seem  to  me,  so  simple  and  grand. 

"  'Did  I  not  tell  you  so,'  he  went  on ;  'was  I  not  absolutely 
frank  with  you — here,  on  this  very  spot?  I  came  to  you, 
Alain,  as  being  the  only  man  who  would  appreciate  me. — 
Fifty  louis  would  be  wasted,  I  told  you;  but  if  you  lent  me  a 
hundred,  I  would  repay  them.  I  fixed  no  date,  for  how  can  I 
tell  when  my  long  struggle  with  poverty  will  come  to  an  end? 
You  were  my  last  friend.  All  my  friends,  even  our  old  maa- 


60  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

ter  Bordin,  despised  me  simply  because  I  wanted  to  borrow 
money  of  them.  Oh !  Alain,  you  can  never  know  the  dreadful 
feelings  that  grip  the  heart  of  an  honest  man  fighting  misfor- 
tune when  he  goes  into  another  man's  house  to  ask  for  help ! 

— and  all  that  follows ! I  hope  you  may  never  know 

them ;  they  are  worse  than  the  anguish  of  death ! 

"  'You  have  written  me  certain  letters  which,  from  me 
under  similar  circumstances,  would  have  struck  you  as  odious. 
You  expected  things  of  me  that  were  out  of  my  power.  You 
are  the  only  man  to  whom  I  attempt  to  justify  myself.  In 
spite  of  your  severity,  and  though  you  ceased  to  be  my  friend 
and  became  only  my  creditor  from  the  day  when  Bordin  asked 
me  for  an  acknowledgment  of  your  loan,  thus  discrediting  the 
handsome  agreement  we  ourselves  had  come  to,  here,  shak- 
ing hands  on  it  with  tears  in  our  eyes ! — Well,  I  have  for- 
gotten everything  but  that  morning's  work. 

"  'It  is  in  memory  of  that  hour  that  I  have  come  now  to 
say,  "You  know  not  what  misfortune  is ;  do  not  rail  at  it ! — 
I  have  not  had  an  hour,  not  a  second,  to  write  to  you  in  reply  ! 
Perhaps  you  would  have  liked  me  to  come  and  pay  you  com- 
pliments?— You  might  as  well  expect  a  hare,  harassed  by 
dogs  and  hunters,  to  rest  in  a  clearing  and  crop  the  grass ! — 
I  sent  you  no  ticket !  No ;  I  had  not  enough  to  satisfy  those 
on  whom  my  fate  depended.  A  novice  in  the  theatrical  world, 
I  was  the  prey  of  musicians,  actors,  singers,  the  orchestra.  To 
enable  me  to  join  my  family  over  seas,  and  buy  what  they 
need,  I  sold  the  Peruviens  to  the  manager  with  two  other 
pieces  I  had  in  my  desk.  I  am  setting  out  for  Holland  with- 
out a  sou.  I  shall  eat  dry  bread  on  my  journey  till  I  reach 
Flushing.  I  have  paid  my  passage,  and  have  nothing  more. 
But  for  my  landlady's  compassion,  and  her  trust  in  'me,  I 
should  have  had  to  walk  to  Flushing  with  a  knapsack  on  my 
back.  And  so,  in  spite  of  your  doubting  me,  as,  but  for  you, 
I  could  not  have  sent  my  father-in-law  and  my  wife  to  New 
York,  I  am  entirely  grateful." — No,  Monsieur  Alain,  I  will 
not  forget  that  the  hundred  louis  you  lent  me  might  at  this 
time  be  yielding  you  an  income  of  fifteen  hundred  francs.' 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  61 

"  'I  would  fain  believe  you,  Mongenod,'  said  I,  almost  con- 
vinced by  the  tone  in  which  he  poured  out  this  explanation. 

"  'At  any  rate,  you  no  longer  address  me  as  monsieur,'  said 
he  eagerly,  and  looking  at  me  with  emotion.  'God  knows  I 
should  quit  France  with  less  regret  if  I  could  leave  one  man 
behind  me  in  whose  eyes  I  was  neither  half  a  rogue,  nor  a 
spendthrift,  nor  a  victim  to  illusions.  A  man  who  can  love 
truly,  Alain,  is  never  wholly  despicable.' 

"At  these  words  I  held  out  my  hand ;  he  took  it  and  pressed 
it. 

"  'Heaven  protect  you  !'  said  I. 

'"We  are  still  friends?'  he  asked. 

"  'Yes,'  I  replied ;  'it  shall  never  be  said  that  my  schoolfel- 
low, the  friend  of  my  youth,  set  out  for  America  under  the 
ban  of  my  anger ! ' 

"Mongenod  embraced  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  rushed 
off  to  the  door. 

"When  I  met  Bordin  a  few  days  afterwards,  I  told  him  the 
story  of  our  interview,  and  he  replied  with  a  smile: 

"  'I  only  hope  it  was  not  all  part  of  the  performance ! — He 
did  not  ask  you  for  anything?' 

"  'No/  said  I. 

"  'He  came  to  me  too,  and  I  was  almost  as  weak  as  you ; 
but  he  asked  me  for  something  to  get  food  on  the  way.  How- 
ever, he  who  lives  will  see !' 

"This  remark  of  Bordin's  made  me  fear  lest  I  had  yielded 
stupidly  to  an  impulse  of  feeling. 

"  'Still,  he  too,  the  Public  Prosecutor,  did  the  same/  said  I 
to  myself. 

"It  is  unnecessary,  I  think,  to  explain  to  you  how  I  lost  all 
my  fortune  excepting  the  other  hundred  louis,  which  I  in- 
vested in  Government  securities  when  prices  had  risen  so  high 
that  I  had  barely  five  hundred  francs  a  year  to  live  upon  by 
the  time  I  was  four-and-thirty.  By  Bordin's  interest  I  ob- 
tained an  appointment  at  eight  hundred  francs  a  year  in  a 
branch  of  the  Mont-de-Piete,  Rue  des  Petits  Augustins.  I 
lived  in  the  humblest  way;  I  lodged  on  the  third  floor  of  a 


62  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

house  in  the  Rue  des  Marais  in  an  apartment  consisting  of 
two  rooms  and  a  closet  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  francs.  I 
went  out  to  dinner  in  a  boarding-house  where  there  was  an 
open  table,  and  for  this  I  paid  forty  francs  a  month.  In  the 
evening  I  did  some  copying.  Ugly  as  I  am,  and  very  poor, 
I  had  to  give  up  all  ideas  of  marriage — 

As  he  heard  this  verdict  pronounced  on  himself  by  poor 
Alain  in  a  tone  of  angelic  resignation,  Godefroid  gave  a  little 
start,  which  proved  better  than  any  speech  could  have  done 
the  similarity  of  their  fate;  and  the  good  man,  in  reply  to 
this  eloquent  gesture,  seemed  to  pause  for  his  hearer  to  speak. 

"And  no  one  ever  loved  you?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"No  one,"  he  replied,  "excepting  Madame,  who  returns 
to  all  of  us  alike  our  love  for  her — a  love  I  might  almost  call 
divine. — You  must  have  seen  it:  we  live  in  her  life,  as  she 
lives  in  ours;  we  have  but  one  soul  among  us;  and  though 
our  enjoyments  are  not  physical,  they  are  none  the  less  very 
intense,  for  we  live  only  through  the  heart. — How  can  we  help 
it,  my  dear  boy?  By  the  time  women  are  capable  of  appre- 
ciating moral  qualities  they  have  done  with  externals,  and 
are  growing  old. — I  have  suffered  much,  I  can  tell  you !" 

"Ah !  that  is  the  stage  I  am  at —    •"  said  Godefroid. 

"Under  the  Empire,"  the  old  man  went  on,  bowing  his  head, 
"dividends  were  not  very  punctually  paid;  we  had  to  be  pre- 
pared for  deferred  payment.  From  1802  to  1814  not  a  week 
passed  that  I  did  not  ascribe  my  difficulties  to  Mongenod: 
'But  for  Mongenod,'  I  used  to  think,  'I  might  have  been  mar- 
ried. But  for  him  I  should  not  be  obliged  to  live  in  priva- 
tion.'— But  sometimes,  too,  I  would  say  to  myself,  'Perhaps 
the  poor  man  is  pursued  by  ill-luck  out  there !' 

"In  1806,  one  day  when  I  found  my  life  a  heavy  burden 
to  bear,  I  wrote  him  a  long  letter  that  I  despatched  via  Hol- 
land. I  had  no  answer ;  and  for  three  years  I  waited,  found- 
ing hopes  on  that  reply  which  were  constantly  deceived.  At 
last  I  resigned  myself  to  my  fate.  To  my  five  hundred  francs 
of  dividends,  and  twelve  hundred  francs  of  salary  from  the 
Mont-de-Piete,  for  it  was  raised,  I  added  five  hundred  for 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  63 

my  work  as  bookkeeper  to  a  perfumer,  Monsieur  Birotteau. 
Thus  I  not  only  made  both  ends  meet,  but  I  saved  eight  hun- 
dred francs  a  year.  By  the  beginning  of  1814, 1  was  able  to  in- 
vest nine  thousand  francs  of  savings  in  the  funds,  buying  at 
forty;  thus  I  had  secured  sixteen  hundred  francs  a  year  for 
my  old  age.  So  then,  with  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year  from 
the  Mont-de-Piete,  six  hundred  as  a  bookkeeper,  and  sixteen 
hundred  in  dividends,  I  had  an  income  of  three  thousand 
seven  hundred  francs.  I  took  rooms  in  the  Rue  de  Seine, 
and  I  lived  in  rather  more  comfort. 

"My  position  brought  me  into  contact  with  many  of  the  very 
poor.  For  twelve  years  I  have  known,  better  than  any  one, 
what  the  misery  of  the  world  is;  once  or  twice  I  have  helped 
some  poor  creatures ;  and  I  felt  the  keenest  pleasure  when,  out 
of  ten  that  I  had  assisted,  one  or  two  families  were  rescued 
from  their  difficulties. 

"It  struck  me  that  true  beneficence  did  not  consist  in  throw- 
ing money  to  the  sufferers.  Being  charitable,  in  the  com- 
mon phrase,  often  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  sort  of  premium  on 
crime.  I  set  to  work  to  study  this  question.  I  was  by  this 
time  fifty  years  old;  and  my  life  was  drawing  to  a  close. 

"  'What  good  am  I  in  the  world  ?'  I  asked  myself.  'To 
whom  can  I  leave  my  money?  When  I  shall  have  furnished 
my  rooms  handsomely,  have  secured  a  good  cook,  have  made 
my  life  suitably  comfortable,  what  am  I  to  do  with  my  time  ?' 

"For  eleven  years  of  revolutions  and  fifteen  years  of  poverty 
had  wasted  the  happiest  part  of  my  life,  had  consumed  it  in 
labors  that  were  fruitless,  or  devoted  solely  to  the  preservation 
of  my  person !  At  such  an  age  no  one  can  make  an  obscure 
and  penurious  youth  the  starting-point  to  reach  a  brilliant 
position ;  but  every  one  may  make  himself  useful.  I  under- 
stood, in  short,  that  a  certain  supervision  and  much  good  ad- 
vice would  increase  tenfold  the  value  of  money  given,  for  the 
poor  always  need  guidance;  to  enable  them  to  profit  by  the 
work  they  do  for  others,  it  is  not  the  intelligence  of  the  specu- 
lator that  is  wanting. 

"A  few  happy  results  that  I  achieved  made  me  extremely 


64  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

proud.  I  discerned  both  an  aim  and  an  occupation,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  exquisite  pleasure  to  be  derived  from  playing 
the  part  of  Providence,  even  on  the  smallest  scale." 

"And  you  now  play  it  on  a  large  scale?"  said  Godefroid 
eagerly. 

"Oh,  you  want  to  know  too  much !"  said  the  old  man.  "Nay, 
nay. — Would  you  believe  it,"  he  went  on  after  a  pause,  "the 
smallness  of  the  means  at  my  command  constantly  brought 
my  thoughts  back  to  Mongenod? 

"  'But  for  Mongenod  I  could  have  done  so  much  more,'  I 
used  to  reflect.  'If  a  dishonest  man  had  not  robbed  me  of 
fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year/  I  often  thought,  'I  could  have 
helped  this  or  that  family.' 

"Thus  excusing  my  inability  by  such  an  accusation,  those 
to  whom  I  gave  nothing  but  words  to  comfort  them  joined 
me  in  cursing  Mongenod.  These  maledictions  were  balm  to 
my  heart. 

"One  morning,  in  January  1816,  my  housekeeper  an- 
nounced— whom  do  you  think? — Mongenod. — Monsieur 
Mongenod.  And  who  should  walk  in  but  the  pretty  wife,  now 
six-and-thirty,  accompanied  by  three  children ;  then  came 
Mongenod,  younger  than  when  he  left,  for  wealth  and  happi- 
ness shed  a  glory  on  those  they  favor.  He  had  gene  away  lean, 
pale,  yellow,  and  haggard ;  he  had  come  back  fat  and  well-lik- 
ing, as  flourishing  as  a  prebendary,  and  well  dressed.  He 
threw  himself  into  my  arms,  and  finding  himself  coldly  wel- 
comed, his  first  words  were : 

"  'Could  I  come  any  sooner,  my  friend  ?  The  seas  have 
only  been  open  since  1815,  and  it  took  me  eighteen  months  to 
realize  my  property,  close  my  accounts,  and  call  in  my  assets. 
I  have  succeeded,  my  friend !  When  I  received  your  letter  in 
1806,  I  set  out  in  a  Dutch  vessel  to  bring  you  home  a  little 
fortune ;  but  the  union  of  Holland  to  the  French  Empire  led 
to  our  being  taken  by  the  English,  who  transported  me  to  the 
coast  of  Jamaica,  whence  by  good  luck  I  escaped. 

"  'On  my  return  to  New  York  I  was  a  victim  to  bankruptcy ; 
for  Charlotte,  during  my  absence,  had  not  known  how  to  be 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  65 

on  her  guard  against  swindlers.    So  I  was  compelled  to  begin 
again  to  accumulate  a  fortune. 

"  'However,  here  we  are  at  last.  From  the  way  the  chil- 
dren look  at  you,  you  may  suppose  that  they  have  often  heard 
of  the  benefactor  of  the  family.' 

"  'Yes,  indeed/  said  pretty  Madame  Mongenod,  'we  never 
passed  a  day  without  speaking  of  you.  Your  share  has  been 
allowed  for  in  every  transaction.  We  have  longed  for  the 
happiness  we  enjoy  at  this  moment  of  offering  you  your  for- 
tune, though  we  have  never  for  a  moment  imagined  that  this 
"rector's  tithe"  can  pay  our  debt  of  gratitude.' 

"And  as  she  spoke,  Madame  Mongenod  offered  me  the  beau- 
tiful casket  you  see  there,  which  contained  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand-franc  notes. 

"  'You  have  suffered  much,  my  dear  Alain,  I  know ;  but  we 
could  imagine  all  your  sufferings,  and  we  craked  our  brains 
to  find  means  of  sending  you  money;  but  without  success,' 
Mongenod  went  on.  'You  tell  me  you  could  not  mar'ry ;  but 
here  is  our  eldest  daughter.  She  has  been  brought  up  in  the 
idea  that  she  should  be  your  wife,  and  she  has  five  hundred 
thousand  francs ' 

"  'God  forbid  that  I  should  wreck  her  happiness !'  cried  I, 
as  I  beheld  a  girl  as  lovely  as  her  mother  had  been  at  her  age ; 
and  I  drew  her  to  me,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"'Do  not  be  afraid,  my  pretty  child,'  said  I.  'A  man  of 
fifty  and  a  girl  of  seventeen — and  so  ugly  an  old  fellow  as  I ! 
—Never !' 

"  'Monsieur,'  said  she,  'my  father's  benefactor  can  never 
seem  ugly  in  my  eyes.' 

"This  speech,  made  with  spontaneous  candor,  showed  me 
that  all  Mongenod  had  told  me  was  true.  I  offered  him  my 
hand,  and  we  fell  into  each  other's  arms  once  more. 

"  'My  friend,'  said  I,  'I  have  often  abused  you,  cursed 
you ' 

"  'You  had  every  right,  Alain,'  replied  he,  reddening.  'You 

were  in  poverty  through  my  fault ' 

5 


66  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"I  took  Mongenod's  papers  out  of  a  box  and  restored  them 
to  him,  after  cancelling  his  note  of  hand. 

"  'Now  you  will  all  breakfast  with  me/  said  I  to  the  family 
party. 

"  'On  condition  of  your  dining  with  my  wife  as  soon  as  we 
are  settled/  said  Mongenod,  'for  we  arrived  only  yesterday. 
We  are  going  to  buy  a  house,  and  I  am  about  to  open  a  bank 
in  Paris  for  North  American  business  to  leave  to  that  young- 
ster/ he  said,  pointing  to  his  eldest  son,  a  lad  of  fifteen. 

"We  spent  the  afternoon  together,  and  in  the  evening  we 
all  went  to  the  theatre,  for  Mongenod  and  his  party  were  dying 
to  see  a  play.  Next  day  I  invested  in  the  funds,  and  had  then 
an  income  of  about  fifteen  thousand  francs  in  all.  '  This  re- 
leased me  from  bookkeeping  in  the  evening,  and  allowed  me  to 
give  up  my  appointment,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  all  my 
subordinates. 

"My  friend  died  in  1827,  after  founding  the  banking  house 
of  Mongenod  and  Co.,  which  made  immense  profits  on  the  first 
loans  issued  at  the  time  of  the  Eestoration.  His  daughter, 
to  whom  he  subsequently  gave  about  a  million  of  francs,  mar- 
ried the  Vicomte  de  Fontaine.  The  son  whom  you  know  is 
not  yet  married;  he  lives  with  his  mother  and  his  younger 
brother.  We  find  them  ready  with  all  the  money  we  may  need. 

"Frederic — for  his  father,  in  America,  had  named  him  after 
me — Frederic  Mongenod,  at  seven-and-thirty,  is  one  of  the 
most  skilful  and  respected  bankers  in  Paris. 

"Not  very  long  since  Madame  Mongenod  confessed  to  me 
that  she  had  sold  her  hair  for  two  crowns  of  six  livres 
to  be  able  to  buy  some  bread.  She  gives  twenty-four  loads  of 
wood  every  year,  which  I  distribute  among  the  poor,  in  return 
for  the  half -load  I  once  sent  her." 

"Then  this  accounts  for  your  connection  with  the  house  of 
Mongenod,"  said  Godefroid.  "And  your  fortune — 

The  old  man  still  looked  at  Godefroid  with  the  same  expres- 
sion of  mild  irony. 

"Pray  go  on,"  said  Godefroid,  seeing  by  Monsieur  Alain's 
manner  that  he  had  more  to  say. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  67 

"This  conclusion,  my  dear  Godefroid,  made  the  deepest  im- 
pression on  me.  Though  the  man  who  had  suffered  so  much, 
though  my  friend  had  forgiven  me  my  injustice,  I  could  not 
forgive  myself." 

"Oh !"  said  Godefroid. 

"I  determined  to  devote  all  my  surplus  income,  about  ten 
thousand  francs  a  year,  to  acts  of  rational  beneficence," 
Monsieur  Alain  calmly  went  on.  "At  about  that  time  I  met 
an  Examining  Judge  of  the  department  of  the  Seine  named 
Popinot,  whose  death  we  mourned  three  years  ago, 
and  who  for  fifteen  years  practised  the  most  enlightened 
charity  in  the  Saint-Marcel  quarter.  He,  in  con- 
cert with  the  venerable  vicar  of  Notre-Dame  and  with  Ma- 
dame, planned  the  work  in  which  we  are  all  engaged,  and 
which,  since  1823,  has  secretly  effected  some  good  results. 

"This  work  has  found  a  soul  in  Madame  de  la  Chanterie; 
she 'is  really  the  very  spirit  of  the  undertaking.  The  vicar  has 
succeeded  in  making  us  more  religious  than  we  were  at  first, 
demonstrating  the  necessity  for  being  virtuous  ourselves  if 
we  desire  to  inspire  virtue — for  preaching,  in  fact,  by  ex- 
ample. And  the  further  we  progress  in  that  path,  the  hap- 
pier we  are  among  ourselves.  Thus  it  was  my  repentance 
for  having  misprized  the  heart  of  my  boyhood's  friend  which 
led  me  to  the  idea  of  devoting  to  the  poor,  through  myself, 
the  fortune  he  brought  home  to  me,  which  I  accepted  without 
demurring  to  the  vast  sum  repaid  to  me  for  so  small  a  loan; 
the  application  of  it  made  it  right." 

This  narrative,  devoid  of  all  emphasis,  and  told  with  touch- 
ing simplicity  of  tone,  gesture,  and  expression,  would  have 
been  enough  to  make  Godefroid  resolve  on  joining  in  this 
noble  and  saintly  work,  if  he  had  not  already  intended  it. 

"You  know  little  of  the  world,"  said  Godefroid,  "if  you  had 
such  scruples  over  a  thing  which  would  never  have  weighed  on 
any  other  conscience." 

"I  know  only  the  wretched,"  replied  the  good  man.  "I  have 
no  wish  to  know  a  world  where  men  misjudge  each  other  with 
so  little  compunction. — Now,  it  is  nearly  midnight,  and  I  have 
to  meditate  on  my  chapter  of  the  Imitation. — Good-night." 


68  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

Godefroid  took  the  kind  old  man's  hand  and  pressed  it  with 
an  impulse  of  genuine  admiration. 

"Can  you  tell  me  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  history  ?"  asked 
Godefroid. 

"It  would  be  impossible  without  her  permission,  for  it  is 
connected  with  one  of  the  most  terrible  incidents  of  imperial 
politics.  I  first  knew  Madame  through  my  friend  Bordin ;  he 
knew  all  the  secrets  of  that  beautiful  life;  and  it  was  he  who 
led  me,  so  to  speak,  to  this  house." 

"At  any  rate,  then,"  said  Godefroid,  "I  thank  you  for  hav- 
ing told  me  your  life ;  it  contains  a  lesson  for  me." 

"Do  you  discern  its  moral  ?" 

"Nay,  tell  it  me,"  said  Godefroid ;  "for  I  might  see  it  differ- 
ently to  you " 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  good  man,  "pleasure  is  but  an  acci- 
dent in  the  life  of  the  Christian ;  it  is  not  his  aim  and  end — 
and  we  learn  this  too  late." 

"What  then  happens  when  we  are  converted  ?"  asked  Gode- 
froid. 

"Look  there !"  said  Alain,  and  he  pointed  to  an  inscription 
in  letters  of  gold  on  a  black  ground,  which  the  newcomer 
had  not  seen  before,  as  this  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  been 
into  his  companion's  rooms.  He  turned  round  and  read  the 
words,  "TRANSIRE  BENEFACIENDO." 

"That,  my  son,  is  the  meaning  we  then  find  in  life.  That 
is  our  motto.  If  you  become  one  of  us,  that  constitutes  your 
brevet.  We  read  that  text  and  take  it  as  our  counsel  at  every 
hour  of  the  day,  when  we  rise,  when  we  go  to  bed,  while  we 
dress.  Oh  !  if  you  could  but  know  what  infinite  happiness  is  to 
be  found  in  carrying  out  that  device !" 

"In  what  way?"  said  Godefroid,  hoping  for  some  explana- 
tions. 

"In  the  first  place,  we  are  as  rich  as  Baron  de  Nucingen. — 
But  the  Imitation  prohibits  our  calling  anything  our  own: 
we  are  but  stewards ;  and  if  we  feel  a  single  impulse  of  pride, 
we  are  not  worthy  to  be  stewards.  That  would  not  be  transire 
benefaciendo;  it  would  be  enjoyment  in  thought.  If  you  say 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  69 

to  yourself,  with  a  certain  dilation  of  the  nostrils,  'I  am  play- 
ing the  part  of  Providence' — as  you  might  have  thought  this 
morning,  if  you  had  been  in  my  place,  giving  new  life  to  a 
whole  family,  you  are  a  Sardanapalus  at  once — and  wicked ! 
Not  one  of  our  members  ever  thinks  of  himself  when  doing 
good.  You  must  cast  off  all  vanity,  all  pride,  all  self-con- 
sciousness; and  it  is  difficult,  I  can  tell  you." 

Godefroid  bid  Monsieur  Alain  good-night,  and  went  to  his 
own  rooms,  much  moved  by  this  story;  but  his  curiosity  was 
excited  rather  than  satisfied,  for  the  chief  figure  in  the  picture 
of  this  domestic  scene  was  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  This 
woman's  history  was  to  him  so  supremely  interesting  that  he 
made  the  knowledge  of  it  the  first  aim  of  his  stay  in  the  house. 
He  understood  that  the  purpose  for  which  these  five  persons 
were  associated  was  some  great  charitable  endeavor;  but  he 
thought  much  less  of  that  than  of  his  heroine. 

The  neophyte  spent  some  days  in  studying  these  choice 
spirits,  amid  whom  he  found  himself,  with  greater  attention 
than  he  had  hitherto  devoted  to  them ;  and  he  became  the  sub- 
ject of  a  moral  phenomenon  which  modern  philanthropists 
have  overlooked,  from  ignorance  perhaps.  The  sphere  in  which 
he  lived  had  a  direct  influence  on  Godefroid.  The  law  which 
governs  physical  nature  in  respect  to  the  influence  of  atmos- 
pheric conditions  on  the  lives  of  the  beings  subject  to  them, 
also  governs  moral  nature;  whence  it  is  to  be  inferred  that 
the  collecting  in  masses  of  the  criminal  class  is  one  of  the 
greatest  social  crimes,  while  absolute  isolation  is  an  experi- 
ment of  which  the  success  is  very  doubtful.  Condemned  felons 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  placed  in  religious  institutions  and  sur- 
rounded with  prodigies  of  goodness  instead  of  being  left 
among  marvels  of  evil.  The  Church  may  be  looked  to  for  per- 
fect devotion  to  this  cause;  for  if  She  is  ready  to  WMK!  mis- 
sionaries to  barbarous  or  savage  nations,  how  gladly  would 
She  charge  her  religious  Orders  with  the  mission  of  rescuing 
and  instructing  the  savages  of  civilized  life !  Every  criminal 
is  an  atheist — often  without  knowing  it. 


70  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

Godefroid  found  his  five  companions  endowed  with  the 
qualities  they  demanded  of  him ;  they  were  all  free  from  pride 
or  vanity,  all  truly  humble  and  pious,  devoid  of  the  preten- 
tiousness which  constitutes  devoutness  in  the  invidious  sense 
of  the  word.  These  virtues  were  contagious ;  he  was  filled  with 
the  desire  to  imitate  these  obscure  heroes,  and  he  ended  by 
studying  with  ardor  the  book  he  had  at  first  scorned.  Within 
a  fortnight  he  had  reduced  life  to  its  simplest  expression,  to 
what  it  really  is  when  regarded  from  the  lofty  point  of  view  to 
which  the  religious  spirit  leads  us.  Finally,  his  curiosity,  at 
first  purely  worldly  and  roused  by  many  vulgar  motives,  be- 
came rarefied.  He  did  not  cease  to  be  curious ;  it  would  have 
been  difficult  to  lose  all  interest  in  the  life  of  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie;  but,  without  intending  it,  he  showed  a  reserve 
which  was  fully  appreciated  by  these  men,  in  whom  the  Holy 
Spirit  had  developed  wonderful  depths  of  mind,  as  happens, 
indeed,  with  all  who  devote  themselves  to  a  religious  life.  The 
concentration  of  the  moral  powers,  by  whatever  means  or  sys- 
tem, increases  their  scope  tenfold. 

"Our  young  friend  is  not  yet  a  convert,"  said  the  good  Abbe 
de  Veze;  "but  he  wishes  to  be." 

An  unforeseen  circumstance  led  to  the  revelation  of  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie's  history,  so  that  his  intense  interest  in  it 
was  soon  satisfied. 

Paris  was  just  then  engrossed  by  the  investigation  of  the 
case  of  the  Barriere  Saint-Jacques,  one  of  those  hideous  trials 
which  mark  the  history  of  our  assizes.  The  trial  derived  its 
interest  from  the  criminals  themselves,  whose  daring  and  gen- 
eral superiority  to  ordinary  culprits,  with  -their  cynical  con- 
tempt for  justice,  really  appalled  the  public.  It  was  a  note- 
worthy fact  that  no  newspaper  ever  entered  the  Hotel  de  la 
Chanterie,  and  Godefroid  only  heard  of  the  rejection  of  the 
appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court  from  his  master  in  bookkeep- 
ing ;  the  trial  had  taken  place  long  before  he  came  to  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie. 

"Do  you  ever  meet  with  such  men  as  these  atrocious  scoun- 
drels?" he  asked  his  new  friends.  "Or,  when  you  do,  how 
do  you  deal  with  them  ?" 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  71 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  Monsieur  Nicolas,  "there  is  no  such 
thing  as  an  atrocious  scoundrel;  there  are  mad  creatures  fit 
only  for  the  asylum  at  Charenton;  but  with  the  exception  of 
those  rare  pathological  exceptions,  what  we  find  are  simply 
men  without  religion,  or  who  argue  falsely,  and  the  task  of 
the  charitable  is  to  set  souls  upright  and  bring  the  erring  into 
the  right  way." 

"And  to  the  apostle  all  things  are  possible,"  said  the  Abbe 
de  Veze ;  "he  has  God  on  his  side." 

"If  you  were  sent  to  these  two  condemned  men,"  said  Gode- 
froid,  "you  could  do  nothing  with  them." 

"There  would  not  be  time,"  observed  Monsieur  Alain. 

"As  a  rule,"  said  Monsieur  Nicolas,  "the  souls  handed  over 
to  be  dealt  with  by  the  Church  are  in  utter  impenitence,  and 
the  time  is  too  short  for  miracles  to  be  wrought.  The  men 
of  whom  you  are  speaking,  if  they  had  fallen  into  our  hands, 
would  have  been  men  of  mark ;  their  energy  is  immense ;  but 
when  once  they  have  committed  murder,  it  is  impossible  to 
do  anything  for  them ;  human  justice  has  taken  possession  of 
them " 

"Then  you  are  averse  to  capital  punishment?"  said  Gode- 
froid. 

Monsieur  Nicolas  hastily  rose  and  left  the  room. 

"Never  speak  of  capital  punishment  in  the  presence  of  Mon- 
sieur Nicolas.  He  once  recognized  in  a  criminal,  whose  exe- 
cution it  was  his  duty  to  superintend,  a  natural  child  of  his 
own " 

"And  who  was  innocent !"  added  Monsieur  Joseph. 

At  this  moment  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  who  had  not  been 
in  the  room,  came  in. 

"Still,  you  must  allow,"  Godefroid  went  on,  addressing 
Monsieur  Joseph,  "that  society  cannot  exist  without  capital 
punishment,  and  that  these  men,  whose  heads ' 

Godefroid  felt  his  mouth  suddenly  closed  by  a  strong  hand, 
and  the  Abbe  de  Veze  led  away  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  pale 
and  half  dead. 

"What  have  you  done  ?"  cried  Monsieur  Joseph.    "Take  him 


72  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

away,  Alain/'  he  said,  removing  the  hand  with  which  he  had 
gagged  Godefroid;  and  he  followed  the  Abbe  de  Yeze  into 
Madame's  room. 

"Come  with  me,"  said  Alain  to  Godefroid.  "You  have  com- 
pelled ITS  to  tell  you  the  secrets  of  Madame's  life." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  two  friends  were  together  in  Monsieur 
Alain's  room,  as  they  had  been  when  the  old  man  had  told 
Godefroid  his  own  history. 

"Well,"  said  Godefroid,  whose  face  sufficiently  showed  his 
despair  at  having  been  the  cause  of  what  might  be  called  a 
catastrophe  in  this  pious  household. 

"I  am  waiting  till  Manon  shall  have  come  to  say  how  she  is 
going  on,"  replied  the  good  man,  as  he  heard  the  woman's  step 
on  the  stairs. 

"Monsieur,  Madame  is  better.  Monsieur  1'Abbe  managed 
to  deceive  her  as  to  what  had  been  said,"  and  Manon  shot 
a  wrathful  glance  at  Godefroid. 

"Good  Heavens !"  exclaimed  the  unhappy  young  man,  his 
eyes  filling  with  tears. 

"Come,  sit  down,"  said  Monsieur  Alain,  seating  himself. 
Then  he  paused  to  collect  his  thoughts. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  the  kind  old  man,  "that  I  have  the 
talent  necessary  to  give  a  worthy  narrative  of  a  life  so 
cruelly  tried.  You  must  forgive  me  if  you  find  the  words  of 
so  poor  a  speaker  inadequate  to  the  magnitude  of  the  events 
and  catastrophes.  You  must  remember  that  it  is  a  very  long 
time  since  I  was  at  school,  and  that  I  date  from  a  time  when 
thoughts  were  held  of  more  importance  than  effect — from  a 
prosaic  age,  when  we  knew  not  how  to  speak  of  things  except 
by  their  names." 

Godefroid  bowed  with  an  expression  of  assent,  in  which  his 
worthy  old  friend  could  discern  his  sincere  admiration,  and 
which  plainly  said,  "I  am  listening." 

"As  you  have  just  perceived,  my  young  friend,  it  would 
be  impossible  for  you  to  remain  one  of  us  without  learning 
some  of  the  particulars  of  that  saintly  woman's  life.  There 
are  certain  ideas,  allusions,  words,  which  are  absolutely  pro- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  73 

hibited  in  this  house,  since  they  inevitably  reopen  wounds, 
of  which  the  anguish  might  kill  Madame  if  it  were  once  or 
twice  revived " 

"Good  Heavens!"  exclaimed  Godefroid,  "what  have  I 
done?" 

"But  for  Monsieur  Joseph,  who  happily  interrupted  you 
just  as  you  were  about  to  speak  of  the  awful  instrument  of 
death,  you  would  have  annihilated  the  poor  lady. — It  is  time 
that  you  should  be  told  all;  for  you  will  be  one  of  us,  of  that 
we  are  all  convinced." 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie,"  he  went  on  after  a  short  pa-use, 
"is  descended  from  one  of  the  first  families  of  Lower  Nor- 
mandy. Her  maiden  name  was  Mademoiselle  Barbe-Philiberte 
de  Champignelles — of  a  younger  branch  of  that  house;  and 
she  was  intended  to  take  the  veil  unless  a  marriage  could 
be  arranged  for  her  with  the  usual  renunciations  of  property 
that  were  commonly  required  in  poor  families  of  high  rank. 
A  certain  Sieur  de  la  Chanterie,  whose  family  had  sunk  into 
utter  obscurity,  though  dating  from  the  time  of  Philippe- 
Auguste's  crusade,  was  anxious  to  recover  the  rank  to  which 
so  ancient  a  name  gave  him  a  claim  in  the  province  of  Nor- 
mandy. But  he  had  fallen  quite  from  his  high  estate,  for  he 
had  made  money — some  three  hundred  thousand  francs — by 
supplying  the  commissariat  for  the  army  at  the  time  of  the 
war  with  Hanover.  His  son,  trusting  too  much  to  this  wealth, 
which  provincial  rumor  magnified,  was  living  in  Paris  in  a 
way  calculated  to  cause  the  father  of  a  family  some  uneasi- 
ness. 

"Mademoiselle  de  Champignelles'  great  merits  became 
famous  throughout  the  district  of  le  Bessin ;  and  the  old  man, 
whose  little  feof  of  la  Chanterie  lay  between  Caen  and  Saint- 
L6,  heard  some  expressions  of  regret  that  so  accomplished  a 
young  lady,  and  one  so  capable  of  making  a  husband  happy, 
should  end  her  days  in  a  convent.  On  his  uttering  a  wish  to 
seek  her  out,  some  hope  was  given  him  that  he  might  obtain 
the  hand  of  Mademoiselle  Philiberte  for  his  son  if  ho  wen- 
content  to  renounce  any  marriage  portion.  He  went  to 


74  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

Bayeux,  contrived  to  have  two  or  three  meetings  with  the 
Champignelles  family,  and  was  fascinated  by  the  young  lady's 
noble  qualities. 

"At  the  age  of  sixteen,  Mademoiselle  de  Champignelles 
gave  promise  of  what  she  would  become.  She  evinced  well- 
founded  piety,  sound  good  sense,  inflexible  rectitude — one 
of  those  natures  which  will  never  veer  in  its  affections  even 
if  they  are  the  outcome  of  duty.  The  old  nobleman,  en- 
riched by  his  somewhat  illicit  gains,  discerned  in  this  charm- 
ing girl  a  wife  who  might  keep  his  son  in  order  by  the  au- 
thority of  virtue  and  the  ascendency  of  a  character  that  was 
firm  but  not  rigid;  for,  as  you  have  seen,  no  one  can  be  gen- 
tler than  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  Then,  no  one  could  be 
more  confiding;  even  in  the  decline  of  life  she  has  the  candor 
of  innocence ;  in  her  youth  she  would  not  believe  in  evil ;  such 
distrust  as  you  may  have  seen  in  her  she  owes  to  her  mis- 
fortunes. The  old  man  pledged  himself  to  the  Champignelles 
to  give  them  a  discharge  in  full  for  the  portion  legitimately 
due  to  Mademoiselle  Philiberte  on  the  signing  of  the  mar- 
riage-contract; in  return,  the  Champignelles,  who  were  con- 
nected with  the  greatest  families,  promised  to  have  the  feof 
of  la  Chanterie  created  a  barony,  and  they  kept  their  word. 
The  bridegroom's  aunt,  Madame  de  Boisfrelon,  the  wife  of 
the  councillor  to  the  Parlement  who  died  in  your  rooms,  prom- 
ised to  leave  her  fortune  to  her  nephew. 

"When  all  these  arrangements  were  completed  between 
the  two  families,  the  father  sent  for  his  son.  This  young 
man,  at  the  time  of  his  marriage,  was  five-and-twenty,  and 
already  a  Master  of  Appeals;  he  had  indulged  in  numerous 
follies  with  the  young  gentlemen  of  the  time,  living  in  their 
style;  and  the  old  army  contractor  had  several  times  paid 
his  debts  to  a  considerable  amount.  The  poor  father,  fore- 
seeing further  dissipation  on  the  son's  part,  was  only  too  glad 
to  settle  a  part  of  his  fortune  on  his  daughter-in-law;  but 
he  was  so  cautious  as  to  entail  the  estate  of  la  Chanterie 
on  the  heirs  male  of  the  marriage " 


75 

"A  precaution,"  added  Monsieur  Alain  in  a  parenthesis, 
"which  the  Revolution  made  useless." 

"As  handsome  as  an  angel,  and  wonderfully  skilled  in  all 
athletic  exercises,  the  young  Master  of  Appeals  had  immense 
powers  of  charming,"  he  went  on.  "So  Mademoiselle  de 
Champignelles,  as  you  may  easily  imagine,  fell  very  much  in 
love  with  her  husband.  The  old  man,  made  very  happy  by  this 
promising  beginning,  and  hoping  that  his  son  was  a  reformed 
character,  sent  the  young  couple  to  Paris.  This  was  early 
in  1788.  For  nearly  a  year  they  were  perfectly  happy.  Ma- 
dame de  la  Chanterie  was  the  object  of  all  the  little  cares, 
the  most  delicate  attentions  that  a  devoted  lover  can  lavish 
on  the  one  and  only  woman  he  loves.  Brief  as  it  was,  the 
honeymoon  beamed  brightly  on  the  heart  of  the  noble  and 
unfortunate  lady. 

"As  you  know,  in  those  days  mothers  all  nursed  their  in- 
fants themselves.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  had  a  daughter. 
This  time,  when  a  wife  ought  to  be  the  object  of  double  de- 
votion on  her  husband's  part,  was,  on  the  contrary,  the  be- 
ginning of  dreadful  woes.  The  Master  of  Appeals  was  obliged 
to  sell  everything  he  could  part  with  to  pay  old  debts  which 
he  had  not  confessed,  and  more  recent  gambling  debts.  Then, 
suddenly,  the  National  Assembly  dissolved  the  Supreme 
Council  and  the  Parlement,  and  abolished  all  the  great  law 
appointments  that  had  been  so  dearly  purchased.  Thus  the 
young  couple,  with  the  addition  of  their  child,  had  no  income 
to  rely  on  but  the  revenues  from  the  entailed  estate,  and  from 
the  portion  settled  on  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  Twenty 
months  after  their  marriage  this  charming  woman,  at  the  age 
of  seventeen  and  a  half,  found  herself  reduced  to  maintaining 
herself  and  the  child  at  her  breast  by  the  work  of  her  hands, 
in  an  obscure  street  where  she  hid  herself.  She  then  found 
herself  absolutely  deserted  by  her  husband,  who  fell  step  by 
step  into  the  society  of  the  very  lowest  kind.  Never  did  she 
blame  her  husband,  never  did  she  put  him  in  the  least  in 
the  wrong.  She  has  told  us  that  all  through  the  worst  time 
she  prayed  to  God  for  her  dear  Henri. 


76  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

"The  rascal's  name  was  Henri/'  remarked  Monsieur  Alain. 
"It  is  a  name  that  must  never  be  spoken  here,  any  more  than 
that  of  Henriette. — To  proceed : 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  who  never  quitted  her  little 
room  in  the  Rue  de  la  Corderie-du-Temple  unless  to  huy  food 
or  fetch  her  work,  kept  her  head  above  water,  thanks  partly 
to  an  allowance  of  a  hundred  francs  a  month  from  her  father- 
in-law,  who  was  touched  by  so  much  virtue.  However,  the 
poor  young  wife,  foreseeing  that  this  support  might  fail  her, 
had  taken  up  the  laborious  work  of  a  staymaker,  and  worked 
for  a  famous  dressmaker.  In  fact,  ere  long  the  old  contractor 
died,  and  his  estate  was  consumed  by  his  son  under  favor  of 
the  overthrow  of  the  Monarchy. 

"The  erewhile  Master  of  Appeals,  now  one  of  the  most 
savage  of  all  the  presidents  of  the  revolutionary  tribunal,  had 
become  a  terror  in  Normandy,  and  could  indulge  all  his  pas- 
sions. Then,  imprisoned  in  his  turn  on  the  fall  of  Robes- 
pierre, the  hatred  of  the  department  condemned  him  to  in- 
evitable death.  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  received  a  farewell 
letter  announcing  her  husband's  fate.  She  immediately 
placed  her  little  girl  in  the  care  of  a  neighbor,  and  went  off 
to  the  town  where  the  wretch  was  in  confinement,  taking  with 
her  a  few  louis,  which  constituted  her  whole  fortune.  This 
money  enabled  her  to  get  into  the  prison.  She  succeeded  in 
helping  her  husband  to  escape,  dressing  him  in  clothes  of  her 
own,  under  circumstances  very  similar  to  those  which  not  long 
after  favored  Madame  de  la  Valette.  She  was  condemned  to 
death,  but  the  authorities  were  ashamed  to  carry  out  this  act 
of  revenge,  and  she  was  secretly  released  with  the  connivance 
of  the  Court  over  which  her  husband  had  formerly  presided. 
She  got  back  to  Paris  on  foot  without  any  money,  sleeping  at 
farmhouses,  and  often  fed  by  charity." 

"Good  Heavens !"  exclaimed  Godefroid. 

"Wait,"  said  the  old  man,  "that  was  nothing. — In  the 
course  of  eight  years  the  poor  woman  saw  her  husband  three 
times.  The  first  time  the  gentleman  spent  twenty-four  hours 
in  his  wife's  humble  lodgings,  and  went  away  with  all  her 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  77 

money,  after  heaping  on  her  every  mark  of  affection,  and 
leading  her  to  believe  in  his  complete  reformation. — Tor  I 
could  not  resist,'  said  she,  'a  man  for  whom  I  prayed  every 
day,  and  who  filled  my  thoughts  exclusively." — The  second 
time  Monsieur  de  la  Chanterie  came  in  a  dying  state,  and  from 
some  horrible  disease!  She  nursed  him,  and  saved  his  life; 
then  she  tried  to  reclaim  him  to  decent  feeling  and  a  seemly 
life.  After  promising  everything  this  angel  begged  of  him, 
the  revolutionary  relapsed  into  hideous  debaucheries,  and  in 
fact  only  escaped  prosecution  by  the  authorities  by  taking 
refug^  in  his  wife's  rooms,  where  he  died  unmolested. 

"F-till,  all  this  was  nothing !"  said  Alain,  seeing  dismay 
in  Godefroid's  face. 

"iMo  one  in  the  world  he  had  mixed  with  had  known  that 
the  man  was  married.  Two  years  after  the  miserable  crea- 
ture's death,  she  heard  that  there  was  a  second  Madame  de 
la  Chanterie,  widowed  and  ruined  like  herself.  The  bigamous 
villain  had  found  two  such  angels  incapable  of  betraying 
him. — Towards  1803,"  the  old  man  went  on  after  a  pause, 
"Monsieur  de  Boisfrelon,  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  uncle, 
having  his  name  removed  from  the  list  of  proscribed  per- 
sons, came  back  to  Paris  and  paid  over  to  her  two  hundred 
thousand  francs  that  the  old  Commissariat  contractor  had 
placed  in  his  keeping,  with  instructions  to  hold  it  in  trust  for 
his  niece.  He  persuaded  the  widow  to  return  to  Normandy, 
where  she  completed  her  daughter's  education,  and,  by  the 
advice  of  the  old  lawyer,  purchased  back  one  of  the  family 
estates  under  very  favorable  conditions." 

"Ah !"  sighed  Godef roid. 

"Oh !  all  this  was  nothing !"  said  Monsieur  Alain.  "We 
have  not  yet  come  to  the  hurricane. — To  proceed.  In  1807, 
after  four  years  of  peace,  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  saw  her 
only  daughter  married  to  a  gentleman  whose  piety,  whose  an- 
tecedents, and  fortune  seemed  a  guarantee  from  every  point 
of  view;  a  man  who  was  reported  to  be  the  'pet  lamb'  of  the 
best  society  in  the  country-town  where  Madame  and  her 
daughter  spent  every  winter.  Remark:  this  society  consisted 


78  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

of  seven  or  eight  families  belonging  to  the  highest  French 
nobility — the  d'Esgrignons,  the  Troisvilles,  the  Casterans,  the 
Nouatres,  and  the  like. 

"At  the  end  of  eighteen  months  this  man  deserted  his  wife 
and  vanished  in  Paris,  having  changed  his  name.  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie  could  never  discover  the  cause  of  this  separa- 
tion till  the  lightning  flash  showed  it  in  the  midst  of  the 
storm.  Her  daughter,  whom  she  had  brought  up  with  the 
greatest  care  and  the  purest  religious  feelings,  preserved  ab- 
solute silence  on  the  subject. 

"This  lack  of  confidence  was  a  great  shock  to  Madame  de 
la  Chanterie.  Many  times  already  she  had  detected  in  her 
daughter  certain  indications  of  the  father's  adventurous 
spirit,  strengthened  by  an  almost  manly  determination  of 
character.  The  husband  had  departed  without  let  or  hin- 
drance, leaving  his  affairs  in  the  utmost  disorder.  To  this 
day  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  is  amazed  at  this  catastrophe, 
which  no  human  power  could  remedy.  All  the  persons  she 
privately  consulted  had  assured  her  before  the  marriage  that 
the  young  man's  fortune  was  clear  and  unembarrassed,  in 
land  unencumbered  by  mortgages,  when,  at  that  very  time, 
the  estate  had,  for  ten  years,  been  loaded  with  debt  far  be- 
yond its  value.  So  everything  was  sold,  and  the  poor  young 
wife,  reduced  to  her  own  little  income,  came  back  to  live  with 
her  mother. 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie  subsequently  learned  that  this 
man  had  been  kept  going  by  the  most  respectable  persons  in 
the  district  for  their  own  benefit,  for  the  wretched  man  owed 
them  all  more  or  less  considerable  sums  of  money.  Indeed, 
ever  since  her  arrival  in  the  province,  Madame  de  la  Chan- 
terie had  been  regarded  as  a  prey. 

"However,  there  were  other  reasons  for  this  climax  of  dis- 
aster, which  you  will  understand  from  a  confidential  com- 
munication addressed  to  the  Emperor. 

"This  man  had  long  since  succeeded  in  winning  the  good 
graces  of  the  leading  Royalists  of  the  Department  by  his  de- 
votion to  the  cause  during  the  stormiest  days  of  the  Revolu- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  79 

tion.  As  one  of  Louis  XVIII.'s  most  active  emissaries,  he 
had,  since  1793,  been  mixed  up  in  every  conspiracy,  always 
withdrawing  at  the  right  moment,  and  with  so  much  dexterity 
as  to  give  rise  at  last  to  suspicions  of  his  honor.  The  King 
dismissed  him  from  service,  and  he  was  excluded  from  all 
further  scheming,  so  he  retired  to  his  estate,  already  deeply 
involved.  All  these  antecedents,  at  that  time  scarcely  known 
— for  those  who  were  initiated  into  the  secrets  of  the  Cabinet 
did  not  say  much  about  so  dangerous  a  colleague — made  him 
an  object  almost  of  worship  in  a  town  devoted  to  the  Bour- 
bons, where  the  cruelest  devices  of  the  Chouans  were  regarded 
as  honest  warfare.  The  Esgrignons,  the  Casterans,  the  Che- 
valier de  Valois,  in  short,  the  Aristocracy  and  the  Church, 
received  the  Eoyalist  with  open  arms,  and  took  him  to  their 
bosom.  This  favor  was  supported  by  his  creditors'  earnest 
desire  to  be  paid. 

"This  wretch,  a  match  for  the  deceased  la  Chanterie,  was 
able  to  keep  up  his  part  for  three  years ;  he  affected  the  great- 
est piety,  and  subjugated  his  vices.  During  the  first  few 
months  of  his  married  life  he  had  some  little  influence  over 
his  wife;  he  did  his  utmost  to  corrupt  her  by  his  doctrines, 
if  atheism  may  be  called  a  doctrine,  and  by  the  flippant  tone 
'in  which  he  spoke  of  the  most  sacred  things. 

"This  backstairs  diplomate  had,  on  his  return  to  the  country, 
formed  an  intimacy  with  a  young  man,  over  head  and  ears 
in  debt,  like  himself,  but  attractive,  in  so  far  that  he  had  as 
much  courage  and  honesty  as  the  other  had  shown  hypocrisy 
and  cowardice.  This  guest  at  his  house — whose  charm  and 
character  could  not  fail  to  impress  a  young  woman,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  adventurous  career — was  a  tool  in  the  hus- 
band's hands  which  he  used  to  support  his  infamous  prin- 
ciples. The  daughter  never  confessed  to  her  mother  the  gulf 
into  which  circumstances  had  thrown  her — for  human  pru- 
dence is  no  word  for  the  caution  exercised  by  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie  when  seeking  a  husband  for  her  only  child.  And 
this  last  blow,  in  a  life  so  devoted,  so  guileless,  so  religious 
as  hers,  tested  as  she  had  been  by  every  kind  of  misfortune, 


80  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

filled  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  with  a  distrust  of  herself  which 
isolated  her  from  her  daughter;  all  the  more  so  because  her 
daughter,  in  compensation  for  her  ill-fortune,  insisted  on 
perfect  liberty,  overruled  her  mother,  and  was  sometimes  very 
rough  with  her. 

"Thus  wounded  in  every  feeling,  cheated  alike  in  her  devo- 
tion and  her  love  for  her  husband — to  whom  she  had  sacrificed 
her  happiness,  her  fortune,  and  her  life,  without  a  murmur; 
cheated  in  the  exclusively  religious  training  she  had  given  hei! 
daughter;  cheated  by  the  world,  even  in  the  matter  of  that 
daughter's  marriage,  and  meeting  with  no  justice  from  the 
heart  in  which  she  had  implanted  none  but  right  feelings,  she 
turned  more  resolutely  to  God,  clinging  to  Him  whose  hand 
lay  so  heavy  on  her.  She  was  almost  a  nun ;  she  went  to  mass 
every  morning,  carried  out  monastic  discipline,  and  saved  in 
everything  to  be  able  to  help  the  poor. 

"Has  any  woman  ever  known  a  more  saintly  or  more  se- 
verely tried  life  than  this  noble  creature,  so  mild  to  the  un- 
fortunate, so  brave  in  danger,  and  always  so  perfect  a  Chris- 
tian?" said  the  worthy  man,  appealing  to  Godefroid.  "You 
know  Madame,  you  know  whether  she  is  deficient  in  sense, 
judgment,  and  reflection.  She  has  all  these  qualities  in  the 
highest  degree.  Well,  and  still  all  these  misfortunes,  which 
surely  were  enough  to  qualify  any  life  as  surpassing  all  others 
in  adversity,  were  a  trifle  compared  with  what  God  had  yet  in 
store  for  this  woman. — We  will  speak  only  of  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie's  daughter,"  said  Monsieur  Alain,  going  on  with  his 
narrative. 

"At  the  age  of  eighteen,  when  she  married,  Mademoiselle 
de  la  Chanterie  had  an  extremely  delicate  complexion,  rather 
dark,  with  a  brilliant  color,  a  slender  form,  and  charming 
features.  An  elegantly  formed  brow  was  crowned  by  the  most 
beautiful  black  hair,  that  matched  well  with  bright  and  lively 
hazel  eyes.  A  peculiar  prettiness  and  a  childlike  countenance 
belied  her  real  nature  and  masculine  decisiveness.  She  had 
small  hands  and  feet;  in  all  her  person  there  was  something 
tiny  and  frail,  which  excluded  any  idea  of  strength  and  wil- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  81 

fulness.  Never  having  lived  away  from  her  mother,  her  mind 
was  absolutely  innocent,  and  her  piety  remarkable. 

"This  young  lady,  like  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  was 
fanatically  devoted  to  the  Bourbons,  and  hated  the  Revolu- 
tion; she  regarded  Napoleon's  empire  as  a  plague  inflicted 
on  France  by  Providence,  as  a  punishment  for  the  crimes  of 
1793.  Such  a  conformity  of  opinion  between  the  lady  and  her 
son-in-law  was,  as  it  always  must  be  in  such  cases,  a  con- 
clusive reason  in  favor  of  the  marriage,  in  which  all  the  aris- 
tocracy of  the  province  took  the  greatest  interest. 

"This  wretched  man's  friend  had  at  the  time  of  the  re- 
bellion in  1799  been  the  leader  of  a  troop  of  Chouans.  It 
would  seem  that  the  Baron — for  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's 
son-in-law  was  a  Baron — had  no  object  in  throwing  his  wife 
and  his  friend  together  but  that  of  extracting  money  from 
them.  Though  deeply  in  debt,  and  without  any  means  of 
living,  the  young  adventurer  lived  in  very  good  style,  and  was 
able,  no  doubt,  to  help  the  promoter  of  royalist  conspiracies. 

"Here  you  will  need  a  few  words  of  explanation  as  to  an 
association  which  made  a  great  noise  in  its  day,"  said  Mon- 
sieur Alain,  interrupting  his  narrative.  ."I  mean  that  of  the 
raiders  known  as  the  Chauffeurs.  These  brigands  pervaded 
all  the  western  provinces  more  or  less;  but  their  object  was 
not  so  much  pillage  as  a  revival  of  the  Eoyalist  opposition. 
Advantage  was  taken  of  the  very  general  resistance  of  the  peo- 
ple to  the  law  of  conscription,  which,  as  you  know,  was  enforced 
with  many  abuses.  Between  Mortagne  and  Rennes,  and  even 
beyond,  as  far  as  the  Loire,  nocturnal  raids  were  frequent,  com- 
monly to  the  injury  of  those  who  held  national  lands.  These 
bands  of  destroyers  were  the  terrors  of  the  country.  I  am  not 
exaggerating  when  I  tell  you  that  in  some  Departments  the  arm 
of  Justice  was  practically  paralyzed.  Those  last  thunders  of 
civil  war  did  not  echo  so  far  as  you  might  suppose,  accus- 
tomed as  we  now  are  to  the  startling  publicity  given  by  the 
press  to  the  most  trivial  acts  of  political  and  private  life. 
The  Censor  allowed  nothing  to  appear  in  print  that  bore  on 
politics,  unless  it  were  accomplished  fact,  and  even  that  was 


82 

distorted.  If  you  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  through  old 
files  of  the  Moniteur  and  other  newspapers,  even  those  issued 
in  the  western  provinces,  you  will  find  not  a  word  concerning 
the  four  or  five  great  trials  which  brought  sixty  or  eighty  of 
these  rebels  to  the  scaffold.  Brigands,  this  was  the  name  given 
under  the  Eevolution  to  the  Vendeans,  the  Chouans,  and  all 
who  took  up  arms  for  the  house  of  Bourbon ;  and  it  was  still 
given  in  legal  phraseology  under  the  Empire  to  the  Eoyalists 
who  were  victims  to  sporadic  conspiracies.  For  to  some  vehe- 
ment souls  the  Emperor  and  his  government  were  'the 
Enemy/  and  everything  seemed  good  that  was  adverse  to  him. 
— I  am  explaining  the  position,  not  justifying  the  opinions, 
and  1  will  now  go  on  with  my  story. 

"So  now,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  such  as  must  occur  in  a 
long  story,  "you  must  understand  that  these  Royalists  were 
ruined  by  the  war  of  1793,  though  consumed  by  frantic  pas- 
sions; and  if  you  can  conceive  of  some  exceptional  natures 
consumed  also  by  such  necessities  as  those  of  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie's  son-in-law  and  his  friend  the  Chouan  leader,  you 
will  see  how  it  was  that  they  determined  to  commit,  for  their 
private  advantage,  a^cts  of  robbery  which  their  political  opin- 
ions would  justify,  against  the  Imperial  government  for  the 
advantage  of  the  Cause. 

"The  young  leader  set  to  work  to  fan  the  ashes  of  the 
Chouau  faction,  to  be  ready  to  act  at  an  opportune  moment. 
There  was,  soon  after,  a  terrible  crisis  in  the  Emperor's  af- 
fairs when  he  was  shut  up  in  the  island  of  Lobau,  and  it 
seemed  that  he  must  inevitably  succumb  to  a  simultaneous 
attack  by  England  and  by  Austria.  The  victory  of  Wagram 
made  the  internal  rebellion  all  but  abortive.  This  attempt 
to  revive  the  fires  of  civil  war  in  Brittany,  la  Vendee,  and  part 
of  Xormandy,  was  unfortunately  coincident  with  the  Baron's 
money  difficulties;  he  had  flattered  himself  that  he  could 
contrive  a  separate  expedition,  of  which  the  profits  could  be 
applied  solely  to  redeem  his  property.  But  his  .wife  and 
friend,  with  nobler  feeling,  refused  to  divert  to  private  uses 
any  sums  that  might  be  snatched  at  the  sword's  point  from 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  83 

the  State  coffers ;  these  were  to  be  distributed  to  the  rebel  con- 
scripts and  Chouans,  and  to  purchase  weapons  and  ammuni- 
tion to  arm  a  general  rising. 

"At  last,  when  after  heated  discussions  the  young  Chouan, 
supported  by  the  Baroness,  positively  refused  to  retain  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  in  silver  crowns  which  was  to  be  seized 
from  one  of  the  Government  Receivers'  offices  in  the  west  to 
provide  for  the  Royalist  forces,  the  husband  disappeared,  to 
escape  the  execution  on  his  person  of  several  writs  that  were 
out  against  him.  The  creditors  tried  to  extract  payment  from 
his  wife,  but  the  wretched  man  had  dried  up  the  spring  of  af- 
fection which  prompts  a  woman  to  sacrifice  herself  for  her 
husband. 

"All  this  was  kept  from  poor  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  but 
it  was  a  trifle  in  comparison  with  the  plot  that  lay  behind  this 
merely  preliminary  explanation. 

"It  is  too  late  this  evening,"  said  the  good  man,  looking  at 
the  clock,  "and  there  is  too  much  still  to  tell,  to  allow  of  my 
going  on  with  the  rest  of  the  story.  My  old  friend  Bordin, 
who  was  made  famous  as  a  Royalist  by  his  share  in  the  great 
Simeuse  trial,  and  who  pleaded  in  the  case  of  the  Chauffeurs 
of  Mortagne,  gave  me  when  I  came  to  live  here  two  docu- 
ments which,  as  he  died  not  long  after,  I  still  have  in  my  pos- 
session. You  will  there  find  the  facts  set  forth  much  more 
concisely  than  I  could  give  them.  The  details  are  so  com- 
plicated that  I  should  lose  myself  in  trying  to  state  them, 
and  it  would  take  me  more  than  two  hours,  while  in  these 
papers  you  will  find  them  summarized.  To-morrow  morning 
I  will  tell  you  what  remains  to  be  told  concerning  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie,  for  when  you  have  read  these  documents  you 
will  be  sufficiently  informed  for  me  to  conclude  my  tale  in  a 
few  words." 

He  placed  some  papers,  yellow  with  years,  in  Godefroid's 
hands;  after  bidding  his  neighbor  good-night,  the  young  man 
retired  to  his  room,  jind  before  he  went  to  sleep  read  the  two 
documents  here  reproduced: 
VOL.  16—37 


84  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"BILL  OF  INDICTMENT. 

"Court  of  Criminal  and  Special  Justice  for  the  Department 
of  the  Orne. 

"The  Public  Prosecutor  to  the  Imperial  Court  of  Justice 
at  Caen,  appointed  to  carry  out  his  functions  to  the  Special 
Criminal  Court  sitting  by  the  Imperial  decree  of  September 
1809,  in  the  town  of  Alengon,  sets  forth  to  the  Court  the  fol- 
lowing facts,  as  proved  by  the  preliminary  proceedings,  to- 
wit: 

"That  a  conspiracy  of  brigands,  hatched  for  a  long  time 
with  extraordinary  secrecy,  and  connected  with  a  scheme  for 
a  general  rising  in  the  western  departments,  has  vented 
itself  in  several  attempts  on  the  lives  and  property  of  citizens, 
and  more  especially  in  the  attack  with  robbery,  under  arms, 
on  a  vehicle  conveying,  on  the  —  of  May,  18 — ,  the  Govern- 
ment moneys  collected  at.  Caen.  This  attack,  recalling  in  its 
details  the  memories  of  the  civil  war  now  so  happily  at  an  end, 
showed  deep-laid  designs  of  a  degree  of  villainy  which  cannot 
be  excused  by  the  vehemence  of  passion. 

"From  its  inception  to  the  end,  the  plot  is  extremely  com- 
plicated, and  the  details  numerous.  The  preliminary  ex- 
aminations lasted  for  more  than  a  year,  but  the  evidence 
forthcoming  at  every  stage  of  the  crime  throws  full  light  on 
the  preparations  made,  on  its  execution,  and  results. 

"The  first  idea  of  the  plot  was  conceived  by  one  Charles- 
Amedee-Louis-Joseph  Eifoel,  calling  himself  the  Chevalier 
du  Yissard,  born  at  le  Vissard,  a  hamlet  of  Saint-Mexme  by 
Ernee,  and  formerly  a  leader  of  the  rebels. 

"This  man,  who  was  pardoned  by  His  Majesty  the  Em- 
peror at  the  time  of  the  general  peace  and  amnesty,  and  whose 
ingratitude  to  his  sovereign  has  shown  itself  in  fresh  crimes, 
has  already  suffered  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law  as  the 
punishment  for  his  misdeeds;  but  it  is  necessary  here  to 
refer  to  some  of  his  actions,  as  he  had  great  influence  over 
some  of  the  accused  now  awaiting  the  verdict  of  justice,  and 
he  is  concerned  in  every  circumstance  of  the  case. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  85 

"This  dangerous  agitator,  who  bore  an  alias,  as  is  common 
with  these  rebels,  and  was  known  as  Pierrot,  used  to  wander 
about  the  western  provinces  enlisting  partisans  for  a  fresh 
rebellion;  but  his  safest  lurking-place  was  the  chateau  of 
Saint-Savin,  the  home  of  a  woman  named  Lechantre  and  her 
daughter  named  Bryond,  a  house  in  the  hamlet  of  Saint-Savin 
and  in  the  district  of  Mortagne.  This  spot  is  famous  in  the 
most  horrible  annals  of  the  rebellion  of  1799.  It  was  there 
that  a  courier  was  murdered,  and  his  chaise  plundered  by  a 
band  of  brigands  under  the  command  of  a  woman,  helped  by 
the  notorious  Marche-a-Terre.  Hence  brigandage  may  be  said 
to  be  endemic  in  this  neighborhood. 

"An  intimacy  for  which  we  seek  no  name  had  existed  for 
more  than  a  year  between  the  woman  Bryond  and  the  above-' 
named  Rifoel. 

"It  was  close  to  this  spot  that,  in  the  month  of  April  1808, 
an  interview  took  place  between  Rifoel  and  one  Boislaurier, 
a  superior  leader,  known  in  the  more  serious  risings  in  the  west 
by  the  name  of  Auguste,  and  he  it  was  who  was  the  moving 
spirit  of  the  rising  now  under  the  consideration  of  the  Court. 

"This  obscure  point,  namely,  the  connection  of  these  two 
leaders,  is  plainly  proved  by  the  evidence  of  numerous  wit- 
nesses, and  also  stands  as  a  demonstrated  fact  by  the  sentence 
of  death  carried  out  on  Rifoel.  From  the  time  of  that  meet- 
ing, Boislaurier  and  Rifoel  agreed  to  act  in  concert. 

"They  communicated  to  each  other,  and  at  first  to  no  one 
else,  their  atrocious  purpose,  founded  on  his  Royal  and  Im- 
perial Majesty's  absence,  in  command,  at  the  time,  of  his 
forces  in  Spain;  and  then,  or  soon  after,  they  must  have 
plotted  to  capture  the  State  moneys  in  transit,  as  the  base  for 
further  operations. 

"Some  time  later,  one  Dubut  of  Caen  despatched  a  mes- 
senger to  the  chateau  of  Saint-Savin,  namely,  one  Hiley, 
known  as  le  Laboureur,  long  known  as  a  robber  of  the  dili- 
gences; he  was  charged  with  information  as  to  trustworthy 
accomplices.  And  it  was  thus,  by  Hiley's  intervention,  that 
the  plot  secured  the  co-operation  from  the  first  of  one  Her- 


86  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

bomez,  called  Greneral-Hardi,  a  pardoned  rebel  of  the  same 
stamp  as  Rifoel,  and,  like  him,  a  traitor  to  the  amnesty. 

"Herbomez  and  Ililey  recruited  in  the  neighboring  villages 
seven  banditti,  whose  names  must  at  once  be  set  forth  as  fol- 
lows: 

"1.  Jean  Cibot,  called  Pille-Miche,  one  of  the  boldest 
brigands  of  a  troop  got  together  by  Montauran  in  the  year 
VII.,  and  one  of  the  actors  in  the  robbery  and  murder  of  the 
Mortagne  courier. 

"2.  Frangois  Lisieux,  known  as  Grand-Fils,  a  rebel-con- 
script of  the  department  of  the  Mayenne. 

"3.  Charles  Grenier,  or  Fleur-de-Genet,  a  deserter  from  the 
69th  half-brigade. 

"4.  Gabriel  Bruce,  known  as  Gros-Jean,  one  of  the  fiercest 
Chouans  of  Fontaine's  division. 

"5.  Jacques  Horeau,  called  Stuart,  ex-lieutenant  of  that 
brigade,  one  of  Tinteniac's*  adherents,  and  well  known  by  the 
share  he  took  in  the  Quiberon  expedition. 

"6.  Marie-Anne  Cabot,  called  Lajeunesse,  formerly  hunts- 
man to  the  Sieur  Carol  of  Alengon. 

"7.  Louis  Minard,  a  rebel  conscript. 

"These,  when  enrolled,  were  quartered  in  three  different 
hamlets  in  the  houses  of  Binet,  Melin,  and  Laraviniere,  inn 
or  tavern-keepers,  all  devoted  to  Rifoel. 

"The  necessary  weapons  were  at  once  provided  by  one  Jean- 
Frangois  Leveille,  a  notary,  and  the  incorrigible  abettor  of 
the  brigands,  serving  as  a  go-between  for  them  with  several 
leaders  in  hiding;  and,  in  this  town,  by  one  Felix  Courcenil, 
called  the  Confesseur,  formerly  surgeon  to  the  rebel  army  of 
la  Vendee;  both  these  men  are  natives  of  Alengon.  Eleven 
muskets  were  concealed  in  a  house  belonging  to  Bryond  in  a 
suburb  of  Alengon;  but  this  was  done  without  his  knowledge, 
for  he  was  at  that  time  living  in  the  country  on  his  estate 
between  Alengon  and  Mortagne. 

"When  Bryond  left  his  wife  to  go  her  own  way  in  the  fatal  , 
road  she  had  set  out  on,  these  muskets,  cautiously  removed 
from  the  house,  were  carried  by  the  woman  Bryond  in  her  own 
carriage  to  the  chateau  of  Saint-Savin. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  87 

"It  was  then  that  the  Department  of  the  Orne  and  adjacent 
districts  were  dismayed  by  acts  of  highway  robbery  that 
startled  the  authorities  as  much  as  the  inhabitants  of  those 
districts  which  had  so  long  enjoyed  quiet;  and  these  raids 
prove  that  the  atrocious  foes  of  the  Government  and  the  Em- 
pire had  been  kept  informed  of  the  secret  coalition  of  1809 
by  means  of  communications  from  abroad. 

"Levielle  the  notary,  the  woman  Bryond,  Dubut  of  Caen, 
Herbomez  of  Mayenne,  Boislaurier  of  le  Mans,  and  Rifoel 
were  the  ringleaders  of  the  association,  which  was  also  joined 
by  those  criminals  who  have  been  already  executed  under  the 
sentence  passed  on  them  with  Eifoel,  by  those  accused  under 
this  trial,  and  by  several  others  who  have  escaped  public 
vengeance  by  flight,  or  by  the  silence  of  their  accomplices. 

"It  was  Dubut  who,  as  a  resident  near  Caen,  gave  notice  to 
Leveille  of  the  despatch  of  the  money.  Dubut  made  several 
journeys  between  Caen  and  Mortagne,  and  Leveille  also  was 
often  on  the  roads.  It  may  here  be  noted  that,  at  the  time 
when  the  arms  were  moved,  Leveille,  who  came  to  visit  Bruce, 
Grenier,  and  Cibot  at  Melin's  house,  found  them  arranging 
the  muskets  in  an  inside  shed,  and  helped  them  himself  in 
doing  so. 

"A  general  meeting  was  arranged  to  take  place  at  Mortagne 
at  the  $cu  de  France  inn.  All  the  accused  were  present  in 
various  disguises.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Levielle,  the 
woman  Bryond,  Dubut,  Herbomez,  Boislaurier,  and  Hiley, 
the  cleverest  of  the  subordinate  conspirators,  of  whom  Cibot 
is  the  most  daring,  secured  the  co-operation  of  one  Vauthier, 
called  Vieux-Chene,  formerly  a  servant  to  the  notorious 
Longuy,  and  now  a  stableman  at  the  inn.  Vauthier  agreed  to 
give  the  woman  Bryond  due  notice  of  the  passing  of  the 
chaise  conveying  the  Government  moneys,  as  it  commonly 
stopped  to  bait  at  the  inn. 

"The  opportunity  ore  long  offered  for  assembling  the 
brigand  recruits  who  had  boon  scattered  about  in  various  lodg- 
ings with  great  precaution,  sometimes  in  one  village,  and 
sometimes  in  another,  under  the  care  of  Courcouil  and  of 


88  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

Leveille.  The  assembly  was  managed  by  the  woman  Bryond, 
who  afforded  the  brigands  a  new  hiding-place  in  the  unin- 
habited parts  of  the  chateau  of  Saint-Savin,  at  a  few  miles 
from  Mortagne,  where  she  had  lived  with  her  mother  since  her 
husband's  departure.  The  brigands  established  themselves 
there  with  Hiley  at  their  head,  and  spent  several  days  there. 
The  woman  Bryond,  with  her  waiting-maid  Godard,  took  care 
to  prepare  with  her  own  hands  everything  needed  for  lodging 
and  feeding  these  guests.  To  this  end  she  had  trusses  of  hay 
brought  in,  and  went  to  see  the  brigands  in  the  shelter  she 
had  arranged  for  them,  going  to  and  fro  with  Leveille.  Pro- 
visions and  victuals  were  procured  under  the  orders  and  care 
of  Courceuil,  who  took  his  orders  from  Rifoel  and  Boislaurier. 

"The  principal  feat  was  decided  on  and  the  men  fully 
armed ;  the  brigands  stole  out  of  Saint-Savin  every  night ; 
pending  the  transit  of  the  Government  chest,  they  carried  out 
raids  in  the  neighborhood,  and  the  whole  country  was  in  terror 
under  their  repeated  incursions.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  robberies  committed  at  La  Sartiniere,  at  Vonay,  and  at  the 
chateau  of  Saint-Seny  were  the  work  of  this  band;  their  dar- 
ing equaled  their  villainy,  and  they  contrived  to  terrify  their 
victims  so  effectually  that  'no  tales  were  told,  so  that  justice 
could  obtain  no  evidence. 

"While  levying  contributions  on  all  who  held  possession 
of  the  nationalized  land,  the  brigands  carefully  reconnoitred 
the  v/oods  of  Le  Chesnay,  which  they  had  chosen  to  be  the 
scene  of  their  crime. 

"Not  far  away  is  the  village  of  Louvigny,  where  there  is  an 
inn  kept  by  the  brothers  Chaussard,  formerly  gamekeepers 
on  the  property  of  Troisville,  and  this  was  to  be  the  brigands' 
final  rendezvous.  The  two  brothers  knew  beforehand  the  part 
they  were  to  play;  Courceuil  and  Boislaurier  had  long  before 
sounded  them,  and  revived  their  hatred  of  the  government 
of  our  august  Emperor;  and  had  told  them  that  among  the 
visitors  who  would  drop  in  on  them  would  be  some  men  of 
their  acquaintance — the  formidable  Hiley  and  the  not  less 
formidable  Cibot. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  89 

"In  fact,  on  the  6th  the  seven  highwaymen,  under  the 
leadership  of  Hiley,  arrived  at  the  brother  Chaussards'  inn 
and  spent  two  days  there.  On  the  8th  the  chief  led  out  his  men, 
saying  they  were  going  three  leagues  away,  and  he  desired  the 
innkeepers  to  provide  food,  which  was  taken  to  a  place  where 
the  roads  met,  a  little  way  from  the  village.  Hiley  came  home 
alone  at  night. 

"Two  riders— who  were  probably  the  woman  Bryond  and 
Kifoel,  for  it  is  said  that  she  accompanied  him  in  his  expedi- 
tions, on  horseback,  and  dressed  as  a  man — arrived  that' 
evening  and  conversed  with  Hiley.  On  the  following  day 
Hiley  wrote  to  Leveille  the  notary,  and  one  of  the  Chaussard 
brothers  carried  the  letter  and  brought  back  the  answer.  Two 
hours  later  Bryond  and  Rifoel  came  on  horseback  to  speak 
with  Hiley. 

"The  upshot  of  all  these  interviews  and  coming  and  going 
was  that  a  hatchet  was  indispensable  to  break  open  the  cases. 
The  notary  went  back  with  the  woman  Bryond  to  Saint-Savin, 
where  they  sought  in  vain  for  a  hatchet. 

"Thereupon  he  returned  to  the  inn  and  met  Hiley  half-way, 
to  whom  he  was  to  explain  that  no  hatchet  was  to  be  found. 
Hiley  made  his  way  back  and  ordered  supper  at  the  inn  for 
ten  persons ;  he  then  brought  in  the  seven  brigands  all  armed. 
Hiley  made  them  pile  arms  like  soldiers.  They  all  sat  down 
and  supped  in  haste,  Hiley  ordering  a  quantity  of  food  to  be 
packed  for  them  to  take  away  with  them.  Then  he  led  the 
elder  Chaussard  aside  and  asked  for  a  hatchet.  The  innkeeper, 
much  astonished,  by  his  own  account,  refused  to  give  him  one. 
Courceuil  and  Boislaurier  presently  came  in,  and  the  three 
men  spent  the  whole  night  pacing  up  and  down  the  room 
and  discussing  their  plan.  Courceuil,  nicknamed  the  Con- 
fessor, the  most  cunning  of  the  band,  took  possession  of  a 
hatchet,  and  at  about  two  in  the  morning  they  all  went  out 
by  different  doors. 

"Every  minute  was  now  precious;  the  execution  of  the 
crime  was  fixed  for  that  day.  Hiley,  Courceuil,  and  Bois- 
laurier placed  their  men.  Hiley,  with  Minard,  Cabot,  and 


90  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

Bruce,  formed  an  ambush  to  the  right  of  the  wood  of  Le 
Chesnay.  Boislaurier,  Grenier,  and  Horcau  occupied  the 
centre.  Courceuil,  Herbomez,  and  Lisieux  stood  by  the  ra- 
vine under  the  fringe  of  the  wood.  All  these  positions  are 
indicated  on  the  subjoined  plan  to  scale,  drawn  by  the  sur- 
veyor to  the  Government. 

"The  chaise,  meanwhile,  had  started  from  Mortagne  at 
about  one  in  the  morning,  driven  by  one  Eousseau,  who  was 
so  far  inculpated  by  circumstantial  evidence  as  to  make  it 
seem  desirable  to  arrest  him.  The  vehicle,  driving  slowly, 
would  reach  the  wood  of  Le  Chesnay  by  about  three.  It  was 
guarded  by  a  single  gendarme;  the  men  were  to  breakfast  at 
Donnery.  There  were  three  travelers,  as  it  happened,  besides 
the  gendarme. 

"The  driver,  who  had  been  walking  with  them  very  slowly, 
on  reaching  the  bridge  of  Le  Chesnay,  whipped  the  horses 
to  a  speed  and  energy  that  the  others  remarked  upon,  and 
turned  into  a  cross-road  known  as  the  Senzey  road.  The 
chaise  was  soon  lost  to  sight ;  the  way  it  had  gone  was  known 
to  the  gendarme  and  his  companions  only  by  the  sound  of  the 
horses'  bells;  the  men  had  to  run  to  come  up  with  it.  Then 
they  heard  a  shout :  'Stand,  you  rascals !'  and  four  shots  were 
fired. 

"The  gendarme,  who  was  not  hit,  drew  his  sword  and  ran 
on  in  the  direction  he  supposed  the  driver  to  have  taken.  He 
was  stopped  by  four  men,  who  all  fired;  his  eagerness  saved 
him,  for  he  rushed  past  to  desire  one  of  the  young  travelers 
to  run  on  and  have  the  alarm  bell  tolled  at  Le  Chesnay,  but 
two  of  the  brigands  took  steady  aim,  advancing  towards  him; 
he  was  forced  to  draw  back  a  few  steps;  and  just  as  he  was 
about  to  turn  the  wood,  he  received  a  ball  in  the  left  armpit, 
which  broke  his  arm;  he  fell,  and  found  himself  completely 
disabled. 

"The  shouting  and  shots  had  been  heard  at  Donnery.  The 
officer  in  command  at  this  station  hurried  up  with  one  of  his 
gendarmes;  a  running  fire  led  them  away  to  the  side  of 
the  wood  furthest  from  the  scene  of  the  robbery.  The  single 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  91 

gendarme  tried  to  intimidate  the  brigands  by  a  hue  and  cry, 
and  to  delude  them  into  the  belief  that  a  force  was  at  hand. 

"  'Forward  !'  he  cried.  'First  platoon  to  the  right !  now  we 
have  them  !  Second  platoon  to  the  left !' 

"The  brigands  on  their  side  shouted,  'Draw !  This  way, 
comrades  !  Send  up  the  men  as  fast  as  you  can !' 

"The  noise  of  firing  hindered  the  officer  from  hearing  the 
cries  of  the  wounded  gendarme,  and  helping  in  the  manoeuvre 
by  which  the  other  was  keeping  the  robbers  in  check;  but 
he  could  hear  a  clatter  close  at  hand,  arising  from  splitting 
the  cases  open.  He  advanced  towards  that  side ;  four  armed 
men  took  aim  at  him,  and  he  called  out,  'Surrender,  villains  V 

"They  only  replied,  'Stand,  or  you  are  a  dead  man !' 

"He  rushed  forward;  two  muskets  were  fired,  and  he  was 
hit,  one  ball  going  through  his  left  leg  into  his  horse's  flank. 
The  brave  man,  bleeding  profusely,  was  forced  to  retire  from 
the  unequal  struggle,  shouting,  but  in  vain,  'Help — come  on 
— the  brigands  are  at  Le  Chesnay.' 

"The  robbers,  left  masters  of  the  field  by  superiority  of 
numbers,  pillaged  the  chaise  which  had  been  intentionally 
driven  into  a  ravine.  They  blindfolded  the  driver,  but  this 
was  only  a  feint.  The  chests  were  forced  open,  and  bags  of 
money  strewed  the  ground.  The  horses  were  unharnessed 
and  loaded  with  the  coin.  Three  thousand  francs'  worth  of 
copper  money  was  scornfully  left  behind ;  three  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  were  carried  off  on  four  horses.  They  made  for 
the  village  of  Menneville  adjacent  to  the  town  of  Saint- 
Savin. 

"The  horde  and  their  booty  stopped  at  a  solitary  house  be- 
longing to  the  Chaussard  brothers,  inhabited  by  their  uncle, 
one  Bourget,  who  had  been  in  their  confidence  from  the  first. 
This  old  man,  helped  by  his  wife,  received  the  brigands, 
warned  them  to  be  silent,  unloaded  the  beasts,  and  tben 
fetched  up  some  wine.  The  wife  remained  on  sentry  by  the 
chateau.  The  old  man  led  the  horses  back  to  the  wood  and 
returned  them  to  the  driver ;  then  be  released  the  two  young 
men  who  had  been  gagged  as  well  as  the  accommodating 


92  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

driver.  After  refreshing  themselves  in  great  haste,  the 
brigands  went  on  their  way.  Courceuil,  Hiley,  and  Bois- 
laurier  reviewed  thteir  party,  and  after  bestowing  on  each  a 
trifling  recompense,  sent  off  the  men,  each  in  a  different  direc- 
tion. 

"On  reaching  a  spot  called  le  Champ-Landry,  these  male- 
factors, obeying  the  prompting  which  so  often  leads  such 
wretches  into  blunders  and  miscalculations,  threw  their  mus- 
kets away  into  a  field  of  standing  corn.  The  fact  that  all  three 
did  so  at  the  same  time  is  a  crowning  proof  of  their  collusion. 
Then,  terrified  by  the  boldness  and  success  of  their  crime, 
they  separated. 

"The  robbery  having  been  committed,  with  the  additional 
features  of  violence  and  attempt  to  murder,  the  chain  of  sub- 
sidiary events  was  already  in  preparation,  and  other  actors 
were  implicated  in  receiving  and  disposing  of  the  stolen  prop- 
erty. Rifoel,  hidden  in  Paris,  whence  he  pulled  all  the  wires 
of  the  plot,  sent  an  order  to  Leveille  to  forward  to  him  im- 
mediately fifty  thousand  francs.  Courceuil,  apt  at  the  man- 
agement of  such  felonies,  had  sent  off  Hiley  to  inform  Leveille 
of  their  success  and  of  his  arrival  at  Mortagne,  where  the 
notary  at  once  joined  them. 

"Vauthier,  to  whose  fidelity  they  believed  they  might  trust, 
undertook  to  find  the  Chaussards'  uncle ;  he  went  to  the  house, 
but  was  told  by  the  old  man  that  he  must  apply  to  the  nephews, 
who  had  given  over  large  sums  to  the  woman  Bryond.  How- 
ever, he  bid  Vauthier  wait  for  him  on  the  road,  and  he  there 
gave  him  a  bag  containing  twelve  hundred  francs,  which  Vau- 
thier took  to  the  woman  Lechantre  for  her  daughter. 

"By  Leveille's  advice  Courceuil  then  went  to  Bourget,  who 
sent  him  direct  to  his  nephews.  The  elder  Chaussard  led 
'Vauthier  to  the  wood  and  showed  him  a  tree  beneath  which  a 
bag  of  a  thousand  francs  was  found  buried.  In  short,  Leveille, 
Hiley,  and  Vauthier  went  to  and  fro  several  times,  and  each 
time  obtained  a  small  sum,  trifling  in  comparison  with  the 
whole  amount  stolen. 

"These  moneys  were  handed  over  to  the  woman  Lechantre 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  93 

at  Mortagne;  and,  in  obedience  to  a  letter  from  her  daugh- 
ter, she  carried  them  to  Saint-Savin,  whither  the  said  Bryond 
had  returned. 

"It  is  not  immediately  necessary  to  inquire  whether  this 
woman  Lechantre  had  any  previous  knowledge  of  the  plot. 
For  the  present  it  need  only  be  noted  that  she  had  left  Mor- 
tagne to  go  to  Saint-Savin  the  day  before  the  crime  was  com- 
mitted in  order  to  fetch  away  her  daughter;  that  the  two  wo- 
men met  half-way,  and  returned  to  Mortagne;  that,  on  the  fol- 
lowing day,  the  notary,  being  informed  of  this  by  Hiley,  went 
from  Alengon  to  Mortagne,  and  straight  to  their  house,  where 
he  persuaded  them  to  transport  the  money,  obtained  with  so 
much  difficulty  from  the  Chaussards  and  from  Bourget,  to  a 
certain  house  in  Alengon,  presently  to  be  mentioned  as  be- 
longing to  one  Pannier,  a  merchant  there.  The  woman  Le- 
chantre wrote  to  the  man  in  charge  at  Saint-Savin  to  come  to 
Mortagne  and  escort  her  and  her  daughter  by  cross-roads  to 
Alengon.  The  money,  amounting  to  twenty  thousand  francs 
in  all,  was  packed  into  a  vehicle  at  night,  the  girl  Godard 
helping  to  dispose  of  it. 

"The  notary  had  planned  the  way  they  were  to  travel.  They 
reached  an  inn  kept  by  one  of  their  allies,  a  man  named  Louis 
Chargegrain,  in  the  hamlet  of  Littray.  But  in  spite  of  the 
notary's  precautions — he  riding  ahead  of  the  chaise — some 
strangers  were  present  and  saw  the  portmanteaus  and  bags 
taken  out  which  contained  the  coin.. 

"But  just  as  Courceuil  and  Hiley,  disguised  as  women,  were 
consulting,  in  the  market  place  at  Alengon,  with  the  afore- 
named Pannier — who  since  1794  had  been  the  rebels' 
treasurer,  and  who  was  devoted  to  Kifoel — as  to  the  best  means 
of  transmitting  the  required  sum  to  Piifoel,  the  terror  occa- 
sioned by  the  arrests  and  inquiries  already  made  was  so  great 
that  the  woman  Lechantre,  in  her  alarm,  set  off  at  night  from 
the  inn  where  they  were,  and  fled  with  her  daughter  by  coun- 
try byways,  leaving  Leveille  behind,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
hiding-places  known  to  them  in  the  chateau  Saint-Savin.  The 
same  alarm  came  over  the  other  criminals.  Courceuil,  Bois- 


94  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

laurier,  and  his  relation  Dubut  exchanged  two  thousand 
francs  in  silver  for  gold  at  a  dealer's,  and  fled  across  Brittany 
to  England. 

"On  arriving  at  Saint-Savin,  the  mother  and  daughter 
heard  that  Bourget  was  arrested  with  the  driver  and  the  run- 
away conscripts. 

"The  magistrates,  the  police,  and  the  authorities  acted 
with  so  much  decision,  that  it  was  deemed  necessary  to  pro- 
tect the  woman  Bryond  from  their  investigations,  for  all  these 
felons  were  devotedly  attached  to  her,  and  she  had  won  them 
all.  So  she  was  removed  from  Saint-Savin,  and  hid  at  first 
at  Alengon,  where  her  adherents  held  council  and  succeeded 
in  concealing  her  in  Pannier's  cellars. 

"Hereupon  fresh  incidents  occurred.  After  the  arrest  of 
Bourget  and  his  wife,  the  Chaussards  refused  to  give  up  any 
more  money,  saying  they  had  been  betrayed.  This  unex- 
pected defection  fell  out  at  the  very  moment  when  all  the  con- 
spirators were  in  the  greatest  need  of  supplies,  if  only  as  a 
means  of  escape.  Kifoe'l  was  thirsting  for  money.  Hiley, 
Cibot,  and  Leveille  now  began  to  doubt  the  honesty  of  the 
two  Chaussards.  This  led  to  a  fresh  complication  which  seems 
to  demand  the  intervention  of  the  law. 

"Two  gendarmes,  commissioned  to  discover  the  woman 
Bryond,  succeeded  in  getting  into  Pannier's  house,  where  they 
were  present  at  a  council  held  by  the  criminals ;  but  these  men, 
false  to  the  confidence  placed  in  them,  instead  of  arresting 
Bryond,  were  enslaved  by  her  charms.  These  rascally  soldiers 
— named  Ratel  and  Mallet — showed  the  woman  every  form  of 
interest  and  devotion,  and  offered  to  escort  her  to  the  Chaus- 
sards' inn  and  compel  them  to  make  restitiition.  The  woman 
went  off  on  horseback,  dressed  as  a  man,  and  accompanied  by 
Ratel,  Mallet,  and  the  maid-servant  Godard.  She  set  out  at 
night,  and  on  reaching  the  inn  she  and  one  of  the  Chaussard 
brothers  had  a  private  but  animated  interview.  She  had  a 
pistol,  and  was  resolved  to  blow  her  accomplice's  brains  out 
in  case  of  his  refusal:  in  fact,  he  led  her  to  the  wood,  and 
she  brought  back  a  heavy  sack.  In  it  she  found  copper  coin 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  95 

and  twelve-sou  pieces  to  the  value  of  fifteen  hundred  francs. 

"It  was  then  suggested  that  as  many  of  the  conspirators  as 
could  be  got  together  should  take  the  Chaussards  by  surprise, 
seize  them,  and  put  them  to  torture.  Pannier,  on  hearing  of 
this  disappointment,  flew  into  a  rage  and  broke  out  in  threats ; 
and  though  the  woman  Bryond  threatened  him  in  return  with 
RifoeTs  vengeance,  she  was  compelled  to  fly. 

"All  these  facts  were  confessed  by  Ratel. 

"Mallet,  touched  by  her  position,  offered  the  woman 
Bryond  a  place  of  shelter;  they  all  set  off  together  and  spent 
the  night  in  the  wood  of  Troisville.  Then  Mallet  and  Ratel, 
with  Hiley  and  Cibot,  went  by  night  to  the  Chaussards'  inn, 
but  they  found  that  the  brothers  had  left  the  place,  and  that 
the  remainder  of  the  money  had  certainly  been  removed. 

"This  was  the  last  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  conspirators 
to  recover  the  stolen  money. 

"It  is  now  important  to  define  more  accurately  the  part 
played  by  each  of  the  criminals  implicated  in  this  affair. 

"Dubut,  Boislaurier,  Gentil,  Herbomez,  Courceuil,  and 
Hiley  are  all  leaders,  some  in  council,  and  some  in  action. 
Boislaurier,  Dubut,  and  Courceuil,  all  three  contumacious  de- 
serters, are  habitual  rebels,  stirring  up  troubles,  the  implaca- 
ble foes  of  Napoleon  the  Great,  of  his  successes,  his  dynasty, 
and  his  government,  of  our  new  code  of  laws  and  of  the 
Imperial  constitution.  Herbomez  and  Hiley,  as  their  right- 
hand  men,  boldly  carried  out  what  the  three  others  planned. 
The  guilt  of  the  seven  instruments  of  the  crime  is  beyond 
ijiicstion — Cibot,  Lisieux,  Grenier,  Bruce,  Horeau,  Cabot,  and 
Minard.  It  is  proved  by  the  depositions  of  those  who  are 
now  in  the  hands  of  justice :  Lisieux  died  during  the  prelimi- 
nary inquiry,  and  Bruce  has  evaded  capture. 

"The  conduct  of  the  chaise-driver  Rousseau  marks  him  &a 
an  accomplice.  The  slow  progress  on  the  highroad,  the  pace 
to  which  he  flogged  the  horses  on  reaching  the  wood,  his  per- 
sistent statement  that  his  head  was  muffled,  whereas,  by  the 
evidence  of  the  young  fellow-travelers,  the  leader  of  the 


96  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

brigands  had  the  handkerchief  removed  and  ordered  him  to 
recognize  the  men, — all  contribute  to  afford  presumptive  evi- 
dence of  his  collusion. 

"As  to  the  woman  Bryond  and  Leveille  the  notary,  their 
complicity  was  constant  and  continuous  from  the  first.  They 
supplied  funds  and  means  for  the  crime ;  they  knew  of  it  and 
abetted  it.  Leveille  was  constantly  traveling  to  and  fro.  The 
woman  Bryond  invented  plot  upon  plot;  she  risked  every- 
thing— even  her  life — to  secure  the  money.  She  lent  her 
house,  her  carriage,  and  was  concerned  in  the  plot  from  the 
beginning,  nor  did  she  attempt  to  persuade  the  chief  leader 
to  desist  from  it  when  she  might  have  exerted  her  evil  in- 
fluence to  hinder  it.  She  led  the  maid-servant  Godard 
into  its  toils.  Leveille  was  so  entirely  mixed  up  in  it, 
that  it  was  he  who  tried  to  procure  the  hatchet  needed  by  the 
robbers. 

"The  woman  Bourget,  Vauthier,  the  Chaussards,  Pannier, 
the  woman  Lechantre,  Mallet,  and  Eatel  were  all  incrimi- 
nated in  various  degrees,  as  also  the  innkeepers  Melin,  Binet, 
Laraviniere,  and  Chargegrain. 

"Bourget  died  during  the  preliminary  inquiry,  after  mak- 
ing a  confession  which  leaves  no  doubt  as  to  the  part  taken 
by  Vauthier  and  the  woman  Bryond ;  and  though  he  tried  to 
mitigate  the  charge  against  his  wife  and  his  nephews  the 
Chaussards,  the  reasons  for  his  reticence  are  self-evident. 

"But  the  Chaussards  certainly  knew  that  they  were  supply- 
ing provisions  to  highway  robbers ;  they  saw  that  the  men  were 
armed  and  were  informed  of  all  their  scheme;  they  allowed 
them  to  take  the  hatchet  needed  for  breaking  open  the  chests, 
knowing  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  required.  Finally,  they 
received  wittingly  the  money  obtained  by  the  robbery,  they  hid 
it,  and  in  fact  made  away  with  the  greater  part  of  it. 

"Pannier,  formerly  treasurer  to  the  rebel  party,  concealed 
the  woman  Bryond;  be  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous  partici- 
pators in  the  plot  of  which  he  was  informed  from  its  origin. 
With  regard  to  him  we  are  in  the  dark  as  to  some  circum- 
stances as  yet  unknown,  but  of  which  justice  will  take  cog- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  9? 

nizance.  He  is  RifoeTs  immediate  ally  and  in  all  the  secrets 
of  the  ante-revolutionary  party  in  the  West;  he  greatly  re- 
gretted the  fact  that  Rifoel  should  have  admitted  the  women 
into  the  plot  or  have  trusted  them  at  all.  He  forwarded  money 
to  Rifoel  and  received  the  stolen  coin. 

"As  to  the  two  gendarmes,  Ratel  and  Mallet,  their  conduct 
deserves  the  utmost  rigor  of  the  law.  They  were  traitors  to 
their  duty.  One  of  them,  foreseeing  his  fate,  committed 
suicide  after  making  some  important  revelations.  The  other, 
Mallet,  denied  nothing,  and  his  confession  removes  all  doubt. 

"The  woman  Lechantre,  in  spite  of  her  persistent  denials, 
was  informed  of  everything.  The  hypocrisy  of  this  woman, 
who  attempts  to  shelter  her  professed  innocence  under  the 
practice  of  assumed  devotion,  is  known  by  her  antecedents  to 
be  prompt  and  intrepid  in  extremities.  She  asserts  that  she 
was  deceived  by  her  daughter,  and  believed  that  the  money  in 
question  belonged  to  the  man  Bryond.  The  trick  is  too  trans- 
parent. If  Bryond  had  had  any  money, he  would  not  have  fled 
from  the  neighborhood  to  avoid  witnessing  his  own  ruin.  Le- 
chantre considered  that  there  was  no  harm  in  the  robbery 
when  it  was  approved  of  by  her  ally  Boislaurier.  But  how, 
then,  does  she  account  for  Rifoel's  presence  at  Saint-Savin, 
her  daughter's  expeditions  and  connection  with  the  man,  and 
the  visit  of  the  brigands  who  were  waited  on  by  the  women 
Godard  and  Bryond?  She  says  she  sleeps  heavily,  and  is  in 
the  habit  of  going  to  bed  at  seven  o'clock,  and  did  not  know 
what  answer  to  make  when  the  examining  Judge  observed  that 
then  she  must  rise  at  daybreak,  and  could  not  have  failed  to 
discern  traces  of  the  plot  and  of  the  presence  of  so  many  men, 
or  to  be  uneasy  about  her  daughter's  nocturnal  expeditions. 
To  this  she  could  only  say  that  she  was  at  her  prayers. 

"The  woman  is  a  model  hypocrite.  In  fact,  her  absence 
on  the  day  when  the  crime  was  committed,  the  care  she  took 
to  remove  her  daughter  to  Mortagne,  her  journey  with  the 
money,  and  her  precipitate  flight  when  everything  was  dis- 
covered, the  care  with  which  she  hid  herself,  and  the  circum- 
stances of  her  arrest,  all  prove  her  complicity  from  an  early 


08  THE  SEA  Ml"  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

stage  of  the  affair.  Her  conduct  was  not  that  of  a  mother 
anxious  to  explain  the  danger  to  her  daughter  and  to  save  her 
from  it,  but  that  of  a  terrified  accomplice;  and  she  was  an 
accessory,  not  out  of  foolish  affection,  but  from  party  spirit 
inspired  by  hatred,  as  is  well  known,  for  his  Imperial 
Majesty's  government.  Maternal  weakness  indeed  could  not 
excuse  her,  and  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  consent,  long 
premeditated,  is  an  evident  sign  of  her  complicity. 

"Not  the  crime  alone,  but  its  moving  spirits,  are  now  known. 
We  see  in  it  the  monstrous  combination  of  the  delirium  of 
faction  with  a  thirst  for  repine;  murder  prompted  by  party 
spirit,  under  which  men  take  shelter,  and  justify  themselves 
for  the  most  disgraceful  excesses.  The  orders  of  the  leaders 
gave  the  signal  for  the  robbery  of  State  moneys  to  pay  for 
subsequent  violence;  base  and  ferocious  hirelings  were  found 
to  do  it  for  wretched  pay,  and  fully  prepared  to  murder ;  while 
the  agitators  to  rebellion,  not  less  guilty,  helped  in  dividing 
and  concealing  the  booty.  What  society  can  allow  such  at- 
tempts to  go  unpunished  ?  The  law  has  no  adequate  punish- 
ment. 

"The  Bench  of  this  Criminal  and  Special  Court,  then,  will 
be  called  upon  to  decide  whether  the  afore-named  Her- 
bomez,  Hiley,  Cibot,  Grenier,  Horeau,  Cabot,  Minard,  Melin, 
Binet,  Laraviniere,  Rousseau,  the  woman  Bryond,  Leveille, 
the  woman  Bourget,  Vauthier,  the  elder  Chaussard,  Pannier, 
the  widow  Lechantre,  and  Mallet,  all  hereinbefore  described 
and  in  presence  of  the  Court,  and  the  afore-named  Bois- 
laurier,  Dubut,  Courceuil,  Bruce,  Chaussard  the  younger, 
Chargegrain,  and  the  girl  Godard,  being  absent  or  having 
fled,  are  or  are  not  guilty  of  the  acts  described  in  this  bill  of 
indictment. 

"Given  in  to  the  Court  at  Caen  the  1st  of  December, 
180— 

"(Signed)         BARON  BOURLAC." 

This  legal  document,  much  shorter  and  more  peremptory 
than  such  bills  of  indictment  are  in  these  days,  so  full  of  de- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  99 

tail  and  so  complete  on  every  point,  especially  as  to  the  pre- 
vious career  of  the  accused,  excited  Godefroid  to  the  utmost. 
The  bare,  dry  style  of  an  official  pen,  setting  forth,  in  red  ink, 
as  it  were,  the  principal  facts  of  the  case,  was  enough  to  set 
his  imagination  working.  Concise,  reserved  narrative  is  to 
some  minds  a  problem  in  which  they  lose  themselves  in  ex- 
ploring the  mysterious  depths. 

In  the  dead  of  night,  stimulated  by  the  silence,  by  the  dark- 
ness, by  the  dreadful  connection  hinted  at  by  Monsieur  Alain 
of  this  document  with  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  Godefroid 
concentrated  all  his  intelligence  on  the  consideration  of  this 
terrible  affair. 

The  name  of  Lechantre  was  evidently  the  first  name  of  the 
la  Chanterie  family,  whose  aristocratic  titular  name  had  of 
course  been  curtailed  under  the  Republic  and  the  Empire. 

His  fancy  painted  the  scenery  where  the  drama  was  played 
out,  and  the  figures  of  the  accomplices  rose  before  him. 
Imagination  showed  him,  not  indeed  "the  afore-named 
Rifoel,"  but  the  Chevalier  du  Vissard,  a  youth  resembling 
Walter  Scott's  Fergus — in  short,  a  French  edition  of  the 
Jacobite.  He  worked  out  a  romance  on  the  passion  of  a  young 
girl  grossly  betrayed  by  her  husband's  infamy — a  tragedy 
then  very  fashionable — and  in  love  with  a  young  leader  re- 
belling against  the  Emperor;  rushing  headlong,  like  Diana 
Vernon,  into  the  toils  of  a  conspiracy,  fired  with  enthusiasm, 
and  then,  having  started  on  the  perilous  descent,  unable  to 
check  her  wild  career. — Had  she  ended  it  on  the  scaffold? 

The  whole  world  seemed  to  rise  before  Godefroid.  He  was 
wandering  through  the  groves  of  Xormandy ;  he  could  see  the 
Breton  gentleman  and  Madame  Bryond  in  the  copse;  he 
dwelt  in  the  old  chateau  of  Saint-Savin ;  he  pictured  the  win- 
ning over  of  so  many  conspirators — the 'notary,  the  merchant, 
and  the  bold  Chouan  leaders.  He  could  understand  the  almost 
unanimous  adhesion  of  a  district  where  the  memory  was  still 
fresh  of  the  famous  M;irehe-a-Terre,  of  the  Comtes  de  Ban- 
van  and  de  Longny.  of  the  massacre  at  la  Vivetiere,  and  of  the 
death  of  the  Maniuis  do  Montauran,  of  whose  exploits  he  had 

heard  from  Madame  de  la  Chanterie. 
YOL.  16 — 38 


100  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

This  vision,  as  it  were,  of  men  and  things  and  places,  was 
but  brief.  As  he  realized  the  fact  that  this  story  was  that  of 
the  noble  and  pious  old  lady  whose  virtues  affected  him  to  the 
point  of  a  complete  metamorphosis,  Godefroid,  with  a  thrill 
of  awe,  took  up  the  second  document  given  to  him  by  Mon- 
sieur Alain,  which  bore  the  title : 

"AN  APPEAL  ON  BEHALF  OF  MADAME  HENRIETTE  BRYOND 
DES  Toims-MiNrERESjWee  LECHANTRE  DE  LA  CHANTERIE." 

"That  settles  it,"  thought  Godefroid. 
The  paper  ran  as  follows: 

"We  are  condemned  and  guilty;  but  if  ever  the  Sovereign 
had  cause  to  exercise  his  prerogative  of  mercy,  would  it  not 
be  under  the  circumstances  herein  set  forth? 

"The  culprit  is  a  young  woman,  who  says  she  is  a  mother, 
and  is  condemned  to  death. 

"On  the  threshold  of  the  prison,  and  in  view  of  the  scaffold, 
this  woman  will  tell  the  truth.  That  statement  will  be  in  her 
favor,  and  to  that  she  looks  for  pardon. 

"The  case,  tried  in  the  Criminal  Court  of  Alengon,  presents 
some  obscure  features,  as  do  all  cases  where  several  accused 
persons  have  combined  in  a  plot  inspired  by  party  feeling. 

"His  Imperial  and  Kingly  Majesty's  Privy  Council  are  now 
fully  informed  as  to  the  identity  of  a  mysterious  personage, 
known  as  le  Marchand,  whose  presence  in  the  department  of 
the  Orne  was  not  disputed  by  the  public  authorities  in  the 
course  of  the  trial,  though  the  pleader  for  the  Crown  did  not 
think  it  advisable  to  produce  him  in  Court,  and  the  defendants 
had  no  right  to  call  him,  nor,  indeed^  power  to  produce  him. 

"This  man,  as  is  well  known  to  the  Bench,  to  the  local  au- 
thorities, to  the  Paris  police,  and  to  the  Imperial  and  Eoyal 
Council,  is  Bernard-Polydor  Bryond  de  la  Tour-Minieres, 
who,  since  1794,  has  been  in  correspondence  with  the  Comte 
de  Lille ;  he  is  known  abroad  as  the  Baron  des  Tours-Minieres, 
and  in  the  records  of  the  Paris  police  as  Contenson. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  101 

"He  is  a  very  exceptional  man,  whose  youth  and  rank  were 
stained  by  unremitting  vice,  ^ich  utter  immorality  and  such 
criminal  excesses,  that  so  infamous  a  life  would  inevitably 
have  ended  on  the  scaffold  but  for  the  skill  with  which  he 
played  a  double  part  under  shelter  of  his  two  names.  Still, 
as  he  is  more  and  more  the  slave  of  his  passions  and  in- 
satiable necessities,  he  will  at  last  fall  below  infamy,  and  find 
himself  in  the  lowest  depths  in  spite  of  indisputable  gifts  and 
an  extraordinary  mind. 

"When  the  Comte  de  Lille's  better  judgment  led  to  his  for- 
bidding Bryond  to  draw  money  from  abroad,  the  man  tried  to 
get  out  of  the  blood-stained  field  on  to  which  his  necessities 
had  led  him.  Was  it  that  this  career  no  longer  paid  him  well 
enough?  Or  was  it  remorse  or  shame  that  led  the  man  back 
to  the  district  where  his  estates,  loaded  with  debt  when  he 
went  away,  could  have  but  little  to  yield  even  to  his  skill? 
This  it  is  impossible  to  believe.  It  seems  more  probable  that 
he  had  some  mission  to  fulfil  in  those  departments  where  some 
sparks  were  still  lingering  of  the  civil  broils. 

"When  wandering  through  the  provinces,  where  his  per- 
fidious adhesion  to  the  schemes  of  the  English  and  of  the 
Comte  de  Lille  gained  him  the  confidence  of  certain  families 
still  attached  to  the  party  that  the  genius  of  our  immortal 
Emperor  has  reduced  to  silence,  he  met  one  of  the  former 
leaders  of  the  Eebellion — a  man  with  whom  he  had  had  deal- 
ings as  an  envoy  from  abroad  at  the  time  of  the  Quiberon 
expedition,  during  the  last  rising  in  the  year  VII.  He  en- 
couraged the  hopes  of  this  agitator,,  who  has  since  paid  the 
penalty  of  his  treasonable  plots  on  the  scaffold.  At  that  time, 
then,  Bryond  was  able  to  learn  all  the  secrets  of  the  incor- 
rigible faction  who  misprize  the  glory  of  His  Majesty  the  Em- 
peror Napoleon  I.,  and  the  true  interests  of  the  country  aa 
represented  by  his  sacred  person. 

"At  the  age  of  five-and-thirty,  this  man,  who  affected  the 
deepest  piety,  who  professed  unbounded  devotion  to  the  in- 
terests of  the  Comte  de  Lille,  and  perfect  adoration  for 
the  rebels  of  the  West  who  perished  in  the  struggle,  who  skil- 


102  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

fully  disguised  the  ravages  of  a  youth  of  debauchery,  and 
whose  personal  appearance  was  in  his  favor,  came,  under  the 
protection  of  his  creditors,  who  told  no  tales,  and  of  the  most 
extraordinary  good-nature  on  the  part  of  all  the  ci-devants  of 
the  district,  to  be  introduced  with  all  these  claims  on  her  re- 
gard to  the  woman  Lechantre,  who  was  supposed  to  have  a 
very  fine  fortune.  The  scheme  in  view  was  to  secure  a  mar- 
riage between  Madame  Lechantre's  only  daughter,  Henriette, 
and  this  protege  of  the  Royalist  party. 

"Priests,  ex-nobles,  and  creditors,  all  from  different  motives, 
conspired  to  promote  the  marriage  between  Bernard  Bryond 
and  Henriette  Lechantre. 

"The  good  judgment  of  the  notary  who  took  charge  of  Ma- 
dame Lechantre's  affairs,  and  his  shrewd  suspicions,  led  per- 
haps to  the  poor  girl's  undoing.  For  Monsieur  Chesnel,  a  no- 
tary at  Alengon,  settled  the  lands  of  Saint-Savin,  the  bride's 
sole  estate,  on  her  and  her  children,  reserving  a  small  charge 
on  it  and  the  right  of  residence  to  the  mother  for  life. 

"Bryond's  creditors,  who,  judging  from  her  methodical  and 
economical  style  of  living,  had  supposed  that  Madame  Le- 
chantre must  have  saved  large  sums,  were  disappointed  in 
their  hopes,  and  believing  that  she  must  be  avaricious,  they 
sued  Bryond,  and  this  led  to  a  revelation  of  his  impecuniosity 
and  difficulties. 

"Then  the  husband  and  wife  quarreled  violently,  and  the 
young  woman  came  to  full  knowledge  of  the  dissipated  habits, 
the  atheistical  opinions  both  in  religion  and  in  politics,  nay, 
I  may  say,  the  utter  infamy,  of  the  man  to  whom  fate  had 
irrevocably  bound  her.  Then  Bryond,  being  obliged  to  let  his 
wife  into  the  secret  of  the  atrocious  plots  against  the  Imperial 
Government,  offered  an  asylum  under  his  roof  to  Rifoel  du 
Vissard. 

"RifoeTs  character,  adventurous,  brave,  and  lavish,  had 
an  extraordinary  charm  for  all  who  came  under  his  influence ; 
of  this  there  is  abundant  proof  in  the  cases  tried  in  no  less 
than  three  special  criminal  courts. 

"The  irresistible  influence,  in  fact  the  absolute  power,  he 
acquired  over  a  young  woman  who  found  herself  at  the  bot- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  .         103 

torn  of  a  gulf,  is  only  too  evident  in  the  catastrophe  of  which 
the  horror  brings  her  as  a  suppliant  to  the  foot  of  the  throne. 
And  His  Imperial  and  Kingly  Majesty's  Council  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  verifying  the  infamous  collusion  of  Bryond,  who, 
far  from  doing  his  duty  as  the  guide  and  adviser  of  the  girl 
intrusted  to  his  care  by  the  mother  he  had  deceived,  condoned 
and  encouraged  the  intimacy  between  his  wife  Henriette  and 
the  rebel  leader. 

"This  was  the  plan  imagined  by  this  detestable  man,  who 
makes  it  his  glory  that  he  respects  nothing,  and  that  he  never 
considers  any  end  but  the  gratification  of  his  passions,  while 
he  regards  every  sentiment  based  on  social  or  religious  mo- 
rality as  a  mere  vulgar  prejudice.  And  it  may  here  be  re- 
marked that  such  scheming  is  habitual  to  a  man  who  has  been 
playing  a  double  part  ever  since  1794,  who  for  eight  years  has 
deceived  the  Comte  de  Lille  and  his  adherents,  probably  de- 
ceiving at  the  same  time  the  superior  police  of  the  Empire — 
for  such  men  are  always  ready  to  serve  the  highest  bidder. 

"Bryond,  then,  was  urging  Rifoel  to  commit  a  crime ;  he  it 
was  who  insisted  on  an  armed  attack  and  highway  robbery 
of  the  State  treasure  in  transit,  and  on  heavy  contributions 
to  be  extorted  from  the  purchasers  of  the  national  land,  by 
means  of  atrocious  tortures  which  he  invented,  and  which 
carried  terror  into  five  Departments.  He  demanded  no  less 
than  three  hundred  thousand  francs  to  pay  off  the  mortgages 
on  his  property. 

"In  the  event  of  any  objection  on  the  part  of  Rifoel  or 
Madame  Bryond,  he  intended  to  revenge  himself  for  the  con- 
tempt he  had  inspired  in  his  wife's  upright  mind,  by  handing 
them  both  over  to  be  dealt  with  by  the  law  as  soon  as  they 
should  commit  some  capital  crime. 

"As  soon  as  he  perceived  that  party  spirit  was  a  stronger 
motive  than  self-interest  in  these  two  whom  he  had  thus 
thrown  together,  he  disappeared ;  he  came  to  Paris,  armed  with 
ample  information  as  to  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  western 
departments. 

"The  Chaussard  brothers  and  Vauthier  were,  it  is  well 
known,  in  constant  correspondence  with  Bryond. 


104          .  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"As  soon  as  the  robbery  on  the  chests  from  Caen  was  ac- 
complished, Bryond,  assuming  the  name  of  le  Marchand, 
opened  secret  communications  with  the  prefet  and  the  magis- 
trates. What  was  the  consequence?  No  conspiracy  of  equal 
extent,  and  in  which  so  many  persons  in  such  different  grades 
of  the  social  scale  were  involved,  has  ever  been  so  immediately 
divulged  to  justice  as  this,  of  which  the  first  attempt  was  the 
robbery  of  the  treasure  from  Caen.  Within  six  days  of  the 
crime,  all  the  guilty  parties  had  been  watched  and  followed 
with  a  certainty  that  betrays  perfect  knowledge  of  the  persons 
in  question,  and  of  their  plans.  The  arrest,  trial,  and  execu- 
tion of  Eifoel  and  his  companions  are  a  sufficient  proof,  and 
mentioned  here  only  to  demonstrate  our  knowledge  of  this 
fact,  of  which  the  Supreme  Council  knows  every  particular. 

"If  ever  a  condemned  criminal  might  hope  for  the  clem- 
ency of  the  Sovereign,  may  not  Henriette  Lechantre? 

"Carried  away  by  a  passion  and  by  rebellious  principles  im- 
bibed with  her  mother's  milk,  she  is,  no  doubt,  unpardonable 
in  the  eye  of  the  law ;  but  in  the  sight  of  our  most  magnani- 
mous Emperor,  may  not  the  most  shameless  betrayal  on  one 
hand,  and  the  most  vehement  enthusiasm  on  the  other,  plead 
her  cause? 

"The  greatest  of  Generals,  the  immortal  genius  who  par- 
doned the  Prince  of  Hatzfeld,  and  who,  like  God  Himself,  can 
divine  the  arguments  suggested  by  a  blind  passion,  may,  per- 
haps, vouchsafe  to  consider  the  temptations  invincible  in  the 
young,  which  may  palliate  her  crime,  great  as  it  is. 

"Twenty-two  heads  have  already  fallen  under  the  sword  of 
justice  and  the  sentence  of  the  three  courts.  One  alone  re- 
mains— that  of  a  young  woman  of  twenty,  not  yet  of  age. 
Will  not  the  Emperor  Xapoleon  the  Great  grant  her  time  for 
repentance  ?  Is  not  that  a  tribute  to  the  grace  of  God  ? 

"For  Henriette  Lechantre,  wife  of  Bryond  des  Tour-Mi- 
nieres, 

"BORDIN, 

"  Retained  for  the  defence,  Advocate  iu  the  Lower 
Court  of  the  Department  of  the  Seine." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  105 

This  terrible  tragedy  haunted  the  little  sleep  Godefroid  was 
able  to  get.  He  dreamed  of  decapitation,  as  the  physician 
Guillotin  perfected  it  with  philanthropic  intentions.  Through 
the  hot  vapors  of  a  nightmare  he  discerned  a  beautiful  young 
woman,  full  of  enthusiasm,  undergoing  the  last  preparations, 
drawn  in  a  cart,  and  mounting  the  scaffold  with  a  cry  of  "Vive 
le  Roi !" 

Godefroid  was  goaded  by  curiosity.  He  rose  at  daybreak, 
dressed,  and  paced  his  room,  till  at  length  he  posted  himself 
at  the  window,  and  mechanically  stared  at  the  sky,  recon- 
structing the  drama,  as  a  modern  romancer  might,  in  several 
volumes.  And  always  against  the  murky  background  of 
Chouans,  of  country  folks,  of  provincial  gentlemen,  of  rebel 
leaders,  police  agents,  lawyers  and  spies,  he  saw  the  radiant 
figures  of  the  mother  and  daughter ;  of  the  daughter  deceiving 
her  mother,  the  victim  of  a  wretch,  and  of  her  mad  passion  for 
one  of  those  daring  adventurers  who  were  afterwards  regarded 
as  heroes — a  man  who,  to  Godefroid's  imagination,  had  points 
of  resemblance  to  Georges  Cadoudal  and  Charette,  and  the 
giants  of  the  struggle  between  the  Republic  and  the  Mon- 
archy. 

As  soon  as  Godefroid  heard  old  Alain  stirring,  he  went  to 
his  room;  but  on  looking  in  through  the  half-opened  door,  he 
shut  it  again,  and  withdrew.  The  old  man,  kneeling  on  his 
prie-Dieu,  was  saying  his  morning  prayers.  The  sight  of  that 
white  head  bent  in  an  attitude  of  humble  piety  recalled  Gode- 
froid to  a  sense  of  duty,  and  he  prayed  too,  with  fervency. 

"I  was  expecting  you,"  said  the  good  man  when,  at  the  end 
of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Godefroid  entered  his  room.  "I  an- 
ticipated your  impatience,  and  rose  earlier  than  usual." 

"Madame  Henriette? "  Godefroid  began,  with  evident 

agitation. 

"Was  Madame's  daughter,"  replied  Alain,  interrupting 
him.  "Madame's  name  is  Lechantre  de  La  Chanterie.  Under 
the  Empire  old  titles  were  not  recognized,  nor  the  names 
added  to  the  patronymic  or  first  surname.  Thus  the  Baronnc 
des  Tours-Minieres  was  'the  woman  Bryond';  the  Marquis 


106  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

d'Esgrignon  was  called  Carol — Citizen  Carol,  and  afterwards 
the  Sieur  Carol;  the  Troisvilles  were  the  Sieurs  Guibelin." 

"But  what  was  the  end?    Did  the  Emperor  pardon  her?" 

"No,  alas !"  said  Alain.  "The  unhappy  little  woman  per- 
ished on  the  scaffold  at  the  age  of  twenty-one. — After  reading 
Bordin's  petition,  the  Emperor  spoke  to  the  Supreme  Judge 
much  to  this  effect: 

"  'Why  make  an  example  of  a  spy  ?  A  secret  agent  ceases 
to  be  a  man,  and  ought  to  have  none  of  a  man's  feelings;  he  is 
but  a  wheel  in  the  machine.  Bryond  did  his  duty.  If  our  in- 
struments of  that  kind  were  not  what  they  are — steel  bars, 
intelligent  only  in  behalf  of  the  Government  they  serve — gov- 
ernment would  be  impossible.  The  sentences  of  Special  Crim- 
inal Courts  must  be  carried  out,  or  my  magistrates  would 
lose  all  confidence  in  themselves  and  in  me.  And  besides, 
the  men  who  fought  for  these  people  are  executed,  and  they 
were  less  guilty  than  their  leaders.  The  women  of  the  western 
provinces  must  be  taught  not  to  meddle  in  conspiracies.  It  is 
because  the  victim  of  the  sentence  is  a  woman  that  the  law 
must  take  its  course.  No  excuse  is  available  as  against  the  in- 
terests of  authority.' 

"This  was  the  substance  of  what  the  Supreme  Judge  was  so 
obliging  as  to  repeat  to  Bordin  after  his  interview  with  the 
Emperor.  To  re-establish  tranquillity  in  the  west,  which  was 
full  of  refractory  conscripts,  Napoleon  thought  it  needful 
to  produce  a  real  'terror/  The  Supreme  Judge,  in  fact,  ad- 
vised the  lawyer  to  trouble  himself  no  further  about  his 
clients/' 

"And  the  lady?"  said  Godefroid. 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie  was  condemned  to  twenty-two 
years'  imprisonment,"  replied  Alain.  "She  had  already  been 
transferred  to  Bicetre,  near  Eouen,  to  undergo  her  sentence, 
and  nothing  could  be  thought  of  till  her  Henriette  was  safe ; 
for  after  these  dreadful  scenes,  she  was  so  wrapped  up  in  her 
daughter  that,  but  for  Bordin's  promise  to  petition  for  the 
mitigation  of  the  sentence  of  death,  it  was  thought  that  Ma- 
dame would  not  have  survived  her  condemnation.  So  they 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  107 

deceived  the  poor  mother.  She  saw  her  daughter  after  the 
execution  of  the  men  who  had  been  sentenced  to  death,  but 
did  not  know  that  the  respite  was  granted  in  consequence  of  a 
false  declaration  that  her  daughter  was  expecting  her  confine- 
ment." 

"Ah,  now  I  understand  everything !"  cried  Godef roid. 

"No,  my  dear  boy.  There  are  some  things  which  cannot  be 
guessed. — For  a  long  time  after  that,  Madame  believed  that 
her  daughter  was  alive." 

"How  was  that?" 

"When  Madame  des  Tours-Minieres  heard  through  Bordin 
that  her  appeal  was  rejected,  the  brave  little  woman  had 
enough  strength  of  mind  to  write  a  score  of  letters  dated  for 
several  months  after  her  execution  to  make  her  mother  believe 
that  she  was  still  alive,  but  gradually  suffering  more  and  more 
from  an  imaginary  malady,  till  it  ended  in  death.  These 
letters  were  spread  over  a  period  of  two  years.  Thus  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie  was  prepared  for  her  daughter's  death,  but 
for  a  natural  death;  she  did  not  hear  of  her  execution  till 
1814. 

"For  two  years  she  was  kept  in  the  common  prison  with  the 
most  infamous  creatures  of  her  sex,  wearing  the  prison  dress ; 
then,  thanks  to  the  efforts  of  the  Champignelles  and  the  Beau- 
seants,  after  the  second  year  she  was  placed  in  a  private  cell, 
where  she  lived  like  a  cloistered  nun." 

"And  the  others?" 

"The  notary  Leveille,  Herbomez,  Hiley,  Cibot,  Grenier, 
Hureau,  Cabot,  Minard,  and  Mallet  were  condemned  to  death, 
and  executed  the  same  day;  Pannier,  with  Chaussard  and 
Vauthier,  was  sentenced  to  twenty  years'  penal  servitude ;  they 
were  branded  and  sent  to  the  hulks;  but  the  Emperor  par- 
doned Chaussard  and  Vauthier.  Melin,  Laraviniere,  and 
Binet  had  five  years'  imprisonment.  The  woman  Bourget  was 
imprisoned  for  twenty-two  years.  Chargegrain  and  Rousseau 
were  acquitted.  Those  who  had  got  away  wore  all  sentenced 
to  death,  with  the  exception  of  the  m;i id-servant  (Jodard,  who, 
as  you  have  guessed,  is  none  other  than  our  good  Manon." 


108  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Manon !"  exclaimed  Godefroid  in  amazement. 

"Oh,  you  do  not  yet  know  Manon,"  replied  the  worthy  man. 
"That  devoted  soul,  condemned  to  twenty-two  years'  imprison- 
ment, had  given  herself  up  to  justice  that  she  might  be  with 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie  in  prison.  Our  beloved  vicar  is  the 
priest  from  Mortagne  who  gave  the  last  sacrament  to  Madame 
des  Tours-Minieres,  who  had  the  fortitude  to  escort  her  to  the 
scaffold,  and  to  whom  she  gave  her  last  farewell  kiss.  The 
same  brave  and  exalted  priest  had  attended  the  Chevalier  du 
Vissard.  So  our  dear  Abbe  de  Veze  learned  all  the  secrets 
of  the  conspirators." 

"I  see  now  when  his  hair  turned  white,"  said  Godefroid. 

"Alas !"  said  Alain. — "He  received  from  Amedee  du  Vissard 
a  miniature  of  Madame  des  Tours-Minieres,  the  only  like- 
ness of  her  that  exists ;  and  the  Abbe  has  been  a  sacred  person- 
age to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  ever  since  the  day  when  she 
was  restored  triumphant  to  social  life." 

"How  was  that?"  asked  Godefroid  in  surprise. 

"Well,  on  the  restoration  of  Louis  XVIII.  in  1814,  Bois- 
laurier,  who  was  the  younger  brother  of  Monsieur  de  Boisfre- 
lon,  was  still  under  the  King's  orders  to  organize  a  rising  in 
the  West — first  in  1809,  and  afterwards  in  1812.  Their  name 
is  Dubut ;  the  Dubut  of  Caen  was  related  to  them.  There  were 
three  brothers:  Dubut  de  Boisfranc,  President  of  the  Court 
of  Subsidies;  Dubut  de  Boisfrelon,  Councillor  at  Law;  and 
Dubut-Boislaurier,  a  Captain  of  Dragoons.  Their  father  had 
given  each  the  name  of  one  of  his  three  several  estates  to  give 
them  a  title  and  status  (savonnette  a  la  vilain,  as  itwascalled), 
for  their  grandfather  was  a  linen  merchant.  Dubut  of  Caen, 
who  succeeded  in  escaping,  was  one  of  the  branch  who  had 
stuck  to  trade ;  but  he  hoped,  by  devoting  himself  to  the  Royal 
cause,  to  be  allowed  to  succeed  to  Monsieur  de  Boisfranc's 
title.  And  in  fact  Louis  XVIII.  gratified  the  wish  of  his 
faithful  adherent,  who,  in  1815,  was  made  Grand  Provost,  and 
subsequently  became  a  Public  Prosecutor  under  the  name  of 
Boisfranc ;  he  was  President  of  one  of  the  Higher  Courts  when 
he  died.  The  Marquis  du  Vissard,  the  unhappy  Chevalier's 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  109 

elder  brother,  created  peer  of  France,  and  loaded  with  honors 
by  the  King,  was  made  Lieutenant  of  the  Maison  Rouge,  and 
when  that  was  abolished  became  Prefect.  Monsieur  d'Her- 
bomez  had  a  brother  who  was  made  a  Count  and  Receiver- 
General.  The  unfortunate  banker  Pannier  died  on  the  hulks 
of  a  broken  heart.  Boislaurier  died  childless,  a  Lieutenant- 
General  and  Governor  of  one  of  the  Royal  residences. 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie  was  presented  to  His  Majesty  by 
Monsieur  de  Champignelles,  Monsieur  de  Beauseant,  the  Due 
de  Verrieuil,  and  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals. — 'You  have  suffered 
much  for  me,  Madame  la  Baronne,'  said  the  King ;  'you  have 
every  claim  on  my  favor  and  gratitude.' 

"  'Sir,'  she  replied,  'your  Majesty  has  so  much  to  do  in 
comforting  the  sufferers,  that  I  will  not  add  the  burden  of  an 
inconsolable  sorrow.  To  live  forgotten,  to  mourn  for  my 
daughter,  and  do  some  good — that  is  all  I  have  to  live  for.  If 
anything  could  mitigate  my  grief,  it  would  be  the  graciousness 
of  my  Sovereign,  and  the  happiness  of  seeing  that  Providence 
did  not  suffer  so  much  devoted  service  to  be  wasted.' " 

"And  what  did  the  King  do?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"He  restored  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  two  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  in  money,"  said  the  good  man,  "for  the  estate  of 
Saint-Savin  had  been  sold  to  make  good  the  loss  to  the  treas- 
ury. The  letters  of  pardon  granted  to  Madame  la  Baronne 
and  her  woman  express  the  Sovereign's  regret  for  all  they  had 
endured  in  his  service,  while  acknowledging  that  the  zeal  of 
his  adherents  had  carried  them  too  far  in  action;  but  the 
thing  that  will  seem  to  you  most  horrible  of  all  is,  that 
throughout  his  reign  Bryond  was  still  the  agent  of  his  secret 
police." 

"Oh,  what  things  kings  can  do !"  cried  Godefroid. — "And  is 
the  wretch  still  living?" 

"No.  The  scoundrel,  who  at  any  rate  concealed  his  name, 
calling  himself  Contenson,  died  at  the  end  of  1829,  or  early 
in  1830.  He  fell  from  a  roof  into  the  street  when  in  pursuit 
of  a  criminal. — Louis  XYITI.  was  of  the  same  mind  as  Na- 
poleon as  regards  police  agents. 


110  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  a  perfect  saint,  prays  for  this 
monster's  soul,  and  has  two  masses  said  for  him  every  year. 

"Though  her  defence  was  undertaken  by  one  of  the  famous 
pleaders  of  the  day,  the  father  of  one  of  our  great  orators, 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  who  knew  nothing  of  her  daugh- 
ter's risks  till  the  moment  when  the  money  was  brought  in — 
and  even  then  only  because  Boislaurier,  who  was  related  to 
her,  told  her  the  facts — could  never  establish  her  innocence. 
The  President  du  Ronceret,  and  Blondet,  Vice-President  of 
the  Court  at  Alengon,  vainly  tried  to  clear  the  poor  lady ;  the 
influence  of  the  notorious  Mergi,  the  Councillor  to  the  Su- 
preme Court  under  the  Empire,  who  presided  over  these  trials 
— a  man  fanatically  devoted  to  the  Church  and  Throne,  who 
afterwards,  as  Public  Prosecutor,  brought  many  a  Bonapartist 
head  under  the  axe — was  so  great  at  this  time  over  his  two  col- 
leagues that  he  secured  the  condemnation  of  the  unhappy 
Baronne  de  la  Chanterie.  Bourlac  and  Mergi  argued  the  case 
with  incredible  virulence.  The  President  always  spoke  of 
the  Baronne  des  Tours-Minieres  as  the  woman  Bryond,  and 
of  Madame  as  the  woman  Lechantre.  The  names  of  all  the 
accused  were  reduced  to  the  barest  Republican  forms,  and  cur- 
tailed of  all  titles. 

"There  were  some  extraordinary  features  of  the  trial,  and 
I  cannot  recall  them  all;  but  I  remember  one  stroke  of  au- 
dacity, which  may  show  you  what  manner  of  men  these 
Chouans  were. — The  crowd  that  pressed  to  hear  the  trials  was 
beyond  anything  your  fancy  can  conceive  of ;  it  filled  the  cor- 
ridors, and  the  square  outside  was  thronged  as  if  on  market 
days.  One  morning  at  the  opening  of  the  Court,  before  the 
arrival  of  the  judges,  Pille-Miche,  the  famous  Chouan,  sprang 
over  the  balustrade  into  the  middle  of  the  mob,  made  play  with 
his  elbows,  mixed  with  the  crowd,  and  fled  among  the  terrified 
spectators,  'butting  like  a  wild  boar/  as  Bordin  told  me.  The 
gendarmes  and  the  people  rushed  to  stop  him,  and  he  was 
caught  on  the  steps  just  as  he  had  reached  the  market-place. 
After  this  daring  attempt,  they  doubled  the  guard,  and  a  de- 
tachment of  men-at-arms  was  posted  on  the  square,  for  it  was 


Ill 

feared  that  there  might  be  among  the  crowd  some  Chouans 
ready  to  aid  and  abet  the  accused.  Three  persons  were  crushed 
to  death  in  the  crowd  in  consequence  of  this  attempt. 

"It  was  subsequently  discovered  that  Contenson — for,  like 
my  old  friend  Bordin,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  call  him  Baron 
des  Tours-Minieres,  or  Bryond,  which  is  a  respectable  old 
name — that  wretch,  it  was  discovered,  had  made  away  with 
sixty  thousand  francs  of  the  stolen  treasure.  He  gave  ten 
thousand  to  the  younger  Chaussard,  whom  he  enticed  into  the 
police  and  inoculated  with  all  his  low  tastes  and  vices;  but 
all  his  accomplices  were  unlucky.  The  Chaussard  who  escaped 
was  pitched  into  the  sea  by  Monsieur  de  Boislaurier,  who  un- 
derstood from  something  said  by  Pannier  that  Chaussard  had 
turned  traitor.  Contenson  indeed  had  advised  him  to  join  the 
fugitives  in  order  to  spy  upon  them.  Vauthier  was  killed  in 
Paris,  no  doubt  by  one  of  the  Chevalier  du  Vissard's  obscure 
but  devoted  followers.  The  younger  Chaussard  too  was  finally 
murdered  in  one  of  the  nocturnal  raids  conducted  by  the  po- 
lice ;  it  seems  probable  that  Contenson  took  this  means  of  rid- 
ding himself  of  his  demands  or  of  his  remorse  by  sending  him 
to  sermon,  as  the  saying  goes. 

"Madame  de  la  Chanterie  invested  her  money  in -the  funds, 
and  purchased  this  house  by  the  particular  desire  of  her  uncle, 
the  old  Councillor  de  Boisfrelon,  who  in  fact  gave  her  the 
money  to  buy  it.  This  quiet  neighborhood  lies  close  to  the 
Archbishop's  residence,  where  our  beloved  Abbe  has  an  ap- 
pointment under  the  Cardinal.  And  this  was  Madame's  chief 
reason  for  acceding  to  the  old  lawyer's  wish  when  his  income, 
after  twenty-five  years  of  revolutions,  was  reduced  to  six  thou- 
sand francs  a  year.  Besides,  Madame  wished  to  close  a  life 
of  such  terrible  misfortunes  as  had  overwhelmed  her  for  six- 
and-twenty  years  in  almost  cloistered  seclusion. 

"You  may  now  understand  the  dignity,  the  majesty,  of  this 
long-suffering  woman — august  indeed,  ;is  I  may  say " 

"Yes,"  said  Godefroid,  "the  stamp  of  all  she  has  endured 
has  given  her  an  indefinable  air  of  grandeur  and  majesty." 

"Each  blow,  each  fresh  pang,  has  but  increased  her  patience 


112  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

and  resignation,"  Alain  went  on.  "And  if  you  could  know  her 
as  we  do,  if  you  knew  how  keen  her  feelings  are,  and  how  ac- 
tive is  the  spring  of  tenderness  that  wells  up  in  her  heart,  you 
would  be  afraid  to  take  count  of  the  tears  she  must  shed,  and 
her  fervent  prayers  that  ascend  to  God.  Only  those  who,  like 
her,  have  known  but  a  brief  season  of  happiness  can  resist  such 
shocks.  Hers  is  a  tender  heart,  a  gentle  soul  clothed  in  a 
frame  of  steel,  tempered  by  privation,  toil,  and  austerity." 

"Such  a  life  as  hers  explains  the  life  of  hermits,"  said  Gode- 
froid. 

"There  are  days  when  I  wonder  what  can  be  the  meaning 
of  such  an  existence.  Is  it  that  God  reserves  these  utmost,  bit- 
terest trials  for  those  of  His  creatures  who  shall  sit  on  His 
right  hand  on  the  day  after  their  death?"  said  the  good  old 
man,  quite  unaware  that  he  was  artlessly  expressing  Sweden- 
berg's  doctrine  concerning  the  angels. 

"What !"  exclaimed  Godef  roid,  "Madame  de  la  Chanterie 
was  mixed  up  with ?" 

"Madame  was  sublime  in  prison,"  Alain  said.  "In  the 
course  of  three  years  the  story  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  came 
true,  for  she  reclaimed  several  women  of  profligate  lives.  And 
in  the  course  of  her  imprisonment,  as  she  took  note  of  the  con- 
duct of  those  confined  with  her,  she  learned  to  feel  that  great 
pity  for  the  misery  of  the  people  which  weighs  on  her  soul,  and 
has  made  her  the  queen  of  Parisian  charity.  It  was  in  the 
horrible  Bicetre  at  Rouen  that  she  conceived  of  the  plan  which 
we  devote  ourselves  to  carry  out.  It  was,  as  she  declared,  a 
dream  of  rapture,  an  angelic  inspiration  in  the  midst  of  hell ; 
she  had  no  thought  of  ever  seeing  it  realized. 

"But  here,  in  1819,  when  peace  seemed  to  be  descending 
on  Paris,  she  came  back  to  her  dream.  Madame  la  Duchesse 
d'Angouleme,  the  Dauphiness,  the  Duchesse  de  Berri,  the 
Archbishop,  and  then  the  Chancellor  and  some  pious  persons 
contributed  very  liberally  to  the  first  necessary  expenses.  The 
fund  was  increased  by  what  we  could  spare  from  our  income, 
for  each  of  us  spends  no  more  than  is  absolutely  necessary." 

Tears  rose  to  Godefroid's  eyes. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  113 

**We  are  the  faithful  priesthood  of  a-  Christian  idea,  and 
belong  body  and  soul  to  this  work,  of  which  Madame  de  la 
Chanterie  is  the  founder  and  the  soul — that  lady  whom  you 
hear  us  respectfully  designate  as  Madame." 

"Ah,  and  I  too  am  wholly  yours !"  cried  Godefroid,  holding 
out  his  hands  to  the  worthy  man. 

"Now,  do  you  understand  that  there  are  subjects  of  con- 
versation absolutely  prohibited  here,  never  even  to  be  alluded 
to?"  Alain  went  on.  "Do  you  appreciate  the  obligation  of 
reticence  under  which  we  all  feel  ourselves  to  a  lady  whom  we 
reverence  as  a  saint?  Do  you  understand  the  charm  exerted 
by  a  woman  made  sacred  by  her  misfortunes,  having  learned 
so  many  things,  knowing  the  inmost  secret  of  every  form  of 
suffering — a  woman  who  has  derived  a  lesson  from  every  grief, 
whose  every  virtue  has  the  twofold  sanction  of  the  hardest 
tests  and  of  constant  practice,  whose  soul  is  spotless  and  above 
reproach ;  who  has  known  motherhood  only  through  its  sor- 
rows, and  conjugal  affection  only  through  its  bitterness;  on 
whom  life  never  smiled  but  for  a  few  months — for  whom 
Heaven  no  doubt  keeps  a  palm  in  store  as  the  reward  of  such 
resignation  and  gentleness  amid  sorrows  ?  Is  she  not  superior 
to  Job  in  that  she  has  never  murmured  ? 

"So  you  need  never  again  be  surprised  to  find  her  speech  so 
impressive,  her  old  age  so  fresh,  her  spirit  so  full  of  com- 
munion, her  looks  so  persuasive;  she  has  had  powers  extra- 
ordinary bestowed  on  her  as  a  confidante  of  the  sorrowing,  for 
she  has  known  every  sorrow.  In  her  presence  smaller  griefs 
are  mute." 

"She  is  the  living  embodiment  of  charity,"  cried  Godefroid 
with  enthusiasm.  "May  I  become  one  of  you?" 

"You  must  pass  the  tests,  and  above  all  else,  Believe!"  said 
the  old  man  with  gentle  excitement.  "So  long  as  you  have 
not  hold  on  faith,  so  long  as  you  have  not  assimilated  in  your 
heart  and  brain  the  divine  meaning  of  Saint  Paul's  epistle  on 
Charity,  you  can  take  no  part  in  our  work." 

PARIS,  1843-1845. 


SECOND   EPISODE 

INITIATED 

WHAT  is  nobly  good  is  contagious,  as  evil  is.  And  by  the 
time  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  boarder  had  dwelt  for  some 
months  in  this  silent  old  house,  after  the  story  told  him  by 
Monsieur  Alain,  which  filled  him  with  the  deepest  respect  for 
the  half-monastic  life  he  saw  around  him,  he  became  conscious 
of  the  ease  of  mind  that  comes  of  a  regular  life,  of  quiet  habits 
and  harmonious  tempers  in  those  we  live  with.  In  four 
months  Godefroid,  never  hearing  an  angry  tone  or  the  least 
dispute,  owned  to  himself  that  since  he  had  come  to  years  of 
discretion  he  did  not  remember  ever  being  so  completely  at 
peace — for  he  could  not  say  happy.  He  looked  on  the  world 
from  afar,  and  judged  it  sanely.  At  last  the  desire  he  had 
cherished  these  three  months  past  to  take  his  part  in  the  deeds 
of  this  mysterious  association  had  become  a  passion ;  and  with- 
out being  a  very  profound  philosopher,  the  reader  may  imagine 
what  strength  such  a  passion  may  assume  in  seclusion. 

So  one  day — a  day  marked  as  solemn  by  the  ascendency  of 
the  Spirit — Godefroid,  after  sounding  his  heart  and  measur- 
ing his  powers,  went  up  to  his  good  friend  Alain — whom 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie  always  called  her  lamb — for  of  all 
the  dwellers  under  that  roof  he  had  always  seemed  to  Gode- 
froid the  most  accessible  and  the  least  formidable.  To  him, 
then,  he  would  apply,  to  obtain  from  the  worthy  man  some 
information  as  to  the  sort  of  priesthood  which  these  Brethren 
in  God  exercised  in  Paris.  Many  allusions  to  a  period  of  pro- 
bation suggested  to  him  that  he  would  be  put  to  initiatory  tests 
of  some  kind.  His  curiosity  had  not  been  fully  satisfied  by 
what  the  venerable  old  man  had  told  him  of  the  reasons  why 
he  had  joined  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  association;  he 
wanted  to  know  more  about  this. 

(114) 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  115 

'At  half-past  ten  o'clock  that  evening  Godefroid  found  him- 
self for  the  third  time  in  Monsieur  Alain's  rooms,  just  as  the 
old  man  was  preparing  to  read  his  chapter  of  The  Imitation. 
This  time  the  mild  old  man  could  not  help  smiling,  and  he  said 
to  the  young  man,  before  allowing  him  to  speak : 

"Why  do  you  apply  to  me,  my  dear  boy,  instead  of  address- 
ing yourself  to  Madame?  I  am  the  most  ignorant,  the  least 
spiritual,  the  most  imperfect  member  of  the  household. — For 
the  last  three  days  Madame  and  my  friends  have  seen  into 
your  heart,"  he  added,  with  a  little  knowing  air. 

"And  what  have  they  seen  ?"  asked  Godefroid. 
»  "Oh,"  said  the  good  man,  with  perfect  simplicity,  "they 
have  seen  a  guileless  desire  to  belong  to  our  community.  But 
the  feeling  is  not  yet  a  very  ardent  vocation.  Nay,"  he  replied 
to  an  impulsive  gesture  of  Godefroid's,  "you  have  more  curi- 
osity than  fervor.  In  fact,  you  have  not  so  completely  freed 
yourself  from  your  old  ideas  but  that  you  imagine  something 
adventurous,  something  romantic,  as  the  phrase  goes,  in  the 
incidents  of  our  life " 

Godefroid  could  not  help  turning  red. 

"You  fancy  that  there  is  some  resemblance  between  our 
occupations  and  those  of  the  Khalifs  in  the  Arabian  Nights, 
and  you  anticipate  a  kind  of  satisfaction  in  playing  the  part 
of  the  good  genius  in  the  idyllic  beneficences  of  which  you 
dream !  Ah,  ha !  my  son,  your  smile  of  confusion  shows  me 
that  we  were  not  mistaken.  How  could  you  expect  to  con- 
ceal your  thoughts  from  us,  who  make  it  our  business  to  detect 
the  hidden  impulses  of  the  soul,  the  cunning  of  poverty,  the 
calculations  of  the  needy ;  who  are  honest  spies,  the  police  of  a 
merciful  Providence,  old  judges  whose  code  of  law  knows  only 
absolution,  and  physicians  of  every  malady  whose  only  pre- 
scription is  a  wise  use  of  money?  Still,  my  dear  boy,  we  do 
not  quarrel  with  the  motives  that  bring  us  a  neophyte  if  only 
he  stays  with  us  and  becomes  a  brother  of  our  Order.  We 
shall  judge  you  by  your  works.  There  Rre  two  kinds  of  curi- 
osity— one  for  good,  and  one  for  evil.  At  this  moment  your 
curiosity  is  for  good.  If  you  are  ^p  become  a  laborer  in  our 


116  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

vineyard,  the  juice  of  the  grapes  will  give  you  perpetual  thirst 
for  the  divine  fruit.  The  initiation  looks  easy,  but  is  difficult, 
as  in  every  natural  science.  In  well-doing,  as  in  poetry, 
nothing  can  be  easier  than  to  clutch  at  its  semblance ;  but  here, 
as  on  Parnassus,  we  are  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  perfec- 
tion. To  become  one  of  us,  you  must  attain  to  great  knowledge 
of  life — and  of  such  life.  Good  God!  Of  that  Paris  life 
which  defies  the  scrutiny  of  the  Chief  of  the  Police  and  his 
men.  It  is  our  task  to  unmask  the  permanent  conspiracy  of 
evil,  and  detect  it  under  forms  so  endlessly  changing  that  they 
might  be  thought  infinite.  In  Paris,  Charity  must  be  as  om- 
niscient as  Sin,  just  as  the  police  agent  must  be  as  cunning  as 
a  thief.  We  have  to  be  at  once  frank  and  suspicious;  our 
judgment  must  be  as  certain  and  as  swift  as  our  eye. 

"As  you  see,  dear  boy,  we  are  all  old  and  worn  out ;  but  then 
we  are  so  well  satisfied  with  the  results  we  have  achieved,  that 
we  wish  not  to  die  without  leaving  successors,  and  we  hold 
you  all  the  more  dear  because  you  may,  if  you  will,  be  our  first 
disciple.  For  us  there  is  no  risk,  we  owe  you  to  God !  Yours 
is  a  sweet  nature  turned  sour,  and  since  you  came  to  live  here 
the  evil  leaven  is  weaker.  Madame's  heavenly  nature  has  had 
its  effect  on  you. 

"We  held  council  yesterday ;  and  as  you  have  given  me  your 
confidence,  my  good  brothers  decided  on  making  me  your  in- 
structor and  guide. — Are  you  satisfied?" 

"Oh,  my  kind  Monsieur  Alain,  your  eloquence  has 
aroused '' 

"It  is  not  I  that  speak  well,  my  dear  boy,  it  is  that  great 
deeds  are  eloquent. — We  are  always  sure  of  soaring  high  if  we 
obey  God  and  imitate  Jesus  Christ  so  far  as  lies  in  man  aided 
by  faith." 

"This  moment  has  decided  my  fate ;  I  feel  the  ardor  of  the 
neophyte !"  cried  Godefroid.  "I  too  would  fain  spend  my  life 
in  well-doing " 

"That  is -the  secret  of  dwelling  in  God,"  replied  the  goon 
man.  "Have  you  meditated  on  our  motto,  Transire  ~bpn<>- 
faciendo?  Transire  means  to  pass  beyond  this  life,  leaving 
a  long  train  of  good  actions  behind  you/' 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  11Y 

"I  have  understood  it  so,  and  I  have  written  up  the  motto 
of  the  order  in  front  of  my  bed." 

"That  is  well. — And  that  action,  so  trivial  in  itself,  is  of 
great  value  in  my  eyes. — Well,  my  son,  I  have  your  first  task 
ready  for  you,  I  will  see  you  with  your  foot  in  the  stirrup.  We 
must  part. — Yes,  for  I  have  to  leave  our  retreat  and  take  my 
place  in  the  heart  of  a  volcano.  I  am  going  as  foreman  in  a 
large  factory  where  all  the  workmen  are  infected  with  com- 
munistic doctrines — and  dream  of  social  destruction,  of  mur- 
dering the  masters,  never  seeing  that  this  would  be  to  mur- 
der industry,  manufacture,  and  commerce. 

"I  shall  remain  there — who  knows — a  year,  perhaps,  as 
cashier,  keeping  the  books,  and  making  my  way  into  a  hundred 
or  more  humble  homes,  among  men  who  were  misled  by  pov- 
erty, no  doubt,  before  they  were  deluded  by  bad  books.  How- 
ever, we  shall  see  each  other  here  every  Sunday  and  holiday; 
as  I  shall  live  in  the  same  quarter  of  the  town  we  may  meet  at 
the  Church  of  Saint-Jacques  du  Haut-Pas ;  I  shall  attend  mass 
there  every  morning  at  half-past  seven.  If  you  should  happen 
to  meet  me  elsewhere,  you  must  never  recognize  me,  unless  I 
rub  my  hands  with  an  air  of  satisfaction.  That  is  one  of  our 
signals. — Like  the  deaf-mutes,  we  have  a  language  by  signs, 
of  which  the  necessity  will  soon  be  more  than  abundantly  evi- 
dent to  you." 

Godefroid's  expression  was  intelligible  to  Monsieur  Alain, 
for  he  smiled  and  went  on : 

"Now  for  your  business.  We  do  not  practise  either  bene- 
ficence or  philanthropy  as  they  are  known  to  you,  under  a 
variety  of  branches  which  are  preyed  upon  by  swindlers,  just 
like  any  other  form  of  trade.  We  exercise  charity  as  it  is  de- 
fined by  our  great  and  sublime  master  Saint  Paul;  for  it  is 
our  belief,  my  son,  that  such  charity  alone  can  heal  the  woes 
of  Paris.  Thus,  in  our  eyes,  sorrow,  poverty,  suffering,  trou- 
ble, evil — from  whatever  cause  they  may  proceed  and  in  what- 
ever class  of  society  we  find  them — have  equal  claims  upon  us. 
Whatever  their  creed  or  their  opinions,  the  unfortunate  are, 
first  and  foremost,  unfortunate;  we  do  not  try  to  persuade 


118  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

them  to  look  to  our  Holy  Mother  the  Church  till  we  have  res- 
cued them  from  despair  and  starvation.  And  even  then  we 
try  to  convert  them  by  example  and  kindness,  for  thus  we  be- 
lieve that  we  have  the  help  of  God.  All  coercion  is  wrong. 

"Of  all  the  wretchedness  in  Paris,  the  most  difficult  to  dis- 
cover and  the  bitterest  to  endure  is  that  of  the  respectable 
middle-class,  the  better  class  of  citizens,  when  they  fall  into 
poverty,  for  they  make  it  a  point  of  honor  to  conceal  it.  Such 
disasters  as  these,  my  dear  Godefroid,  are  the  object  of  our 
particular  care.  Such  persons,  when  we  help  them,  show  in- 
telligence and  good  feeling ;  they  return  us  with  interest  what 
we  may  lend  to  them;  and  in  the  course  of  time  their  repay- 
ments cover  the  losses  we  meet  with  through  the  disabled,  or  by 
swindlers,  or  those  whom  misfortune  has  stultified.  Some- 
times we  get  useful  information  from  those  we  have  helped; 
but  the  work  has  grown  to  such  vast  dimensions,  and  its  de- 
tails are  so  numerous,  that  it  is  beyond  our  powers.  Now,  for 
the  last  seven  or  eight  months,  we  have  a  physician  in  our 
employment  in  each  district  of  the  city  of  Paris.  Each  of  us 
has  four  arrondissements  (or  wards)  under  his  eye;  and  we 
are  prepared  to  pay  to  each  three  thousand  francs  a  year  to 
take  charge  of  our  poor.  He  is  required  to  give  up  his  time 
and  care  to  them  by  preference,  but  we  do  not  prevent  his  tak- 
ing other  patients.  Would  you  believe  that  we  have  not  in 
eight  months  been  able  to  find  twelve  such  men,  twelve  good 
men,  in  spite  of  the  pecuniary  aid  offered  by  our  friends  and 
acquaintance?  You  see,  we  needed  men  of  absolute  secrecy, 
of  pure  life,  of  recognized  abilities,  and  with  a  love  of  doing 
good.  Well,  in  Paris  there  are  perhaps  ten  thousand  men  fit 
for  the  work,  and  yet  in  a  year's  search  the  twelve  elect  have 
not  been  found." 

"Our  Lord  found  it  hard  to  collect  His  apostles,"  said 
Godefroid,  "and  there  were  a  traitor  and  a  disbeliever  among 
them  after  all !" 

"At  last,  within  the  past  fortnight,  each  arrondissement  has 
been  provided  with  a  visitor,"  said  the  old  man,  smiling — "for 
so  we  call  our  physicians — and,  indeed,  within  that  fortnight 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  119 

there  has  been  a  vast  increase  of  business.  However,  we  have 
worked  all  the  harder.  I  tell  you  this  secret  of  our  infant 
fraternity  because  you  must  make  acquaintance  with  the  phy- 
sician of  your  district,  all  the  more  so  because  we  depend  on 
him  for  information.  This  gentleman's  name  is  Berton* — 
Doctor  Berton — and  he  lives  in  the  Rue  de  1'Enfer. 

"Now  for  the  facts.  Doctor  Berton  is  attending  a  lady 
whose  disease  seems  in  some  way  to  defy  science.  That  indeed 
does  not  concern  us,  but  only  the  Faculty;  our  business  is  to 
find  out  the  poverty  of  the  sick  woman's  family,  which  the 
doctor  believes  to  be  frightful,  and  concealed  with  a  determi- 
nation and  pride  that  baffle  all  our  inquiries.  Hitherto,  my 
dear  boy,  this  would  have  been  my  task;  but  now  the  work 
to  which  I  am  devoting  myself  makes  an  assistant  necessary 
in  my  four  districts,  and  you  must  be  that  assistant.  The 
family  lives  in  the  Rue  Notre-Dame  des  Champs,  in  a  house 
looking  out  over  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Parnasse.  You  will 
easily  find  a  room  to  let  there,  and  while  lodging  there  for  a 
time  you  must  try  to  discover  the  truth.  Be  sordid  as  regards 
your  own  expenses,  but  do  not  trouble  your  head  about  the 
money  you  give.  I  will  send  you  such  sums  as  we  consider 
necessary,  taking  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case  into  con- 
sideration. But  study  the  moral  character  of  these  unfor- 
tunate people.  A  good  heart  and  noble  feelings  are  the  secur- 
ity for  our  loans.  Stingy  to  ourselves  and  generous  to  suffer- 
ing, we  must  still  be  careful  and  never  rash,  for  we  dip  into 
the  treasury  of  the  poor. — Go  to-morrow,  and  remember  how 
much  power  lies  in  your  hands.  The  Brethren  will  be  on  your 
side." 

"Ah !"  cried  Godefroid,  "you  have  given  me  so  much  pleas- 
ure in  trusting  me  to  do  good  and  be  worthy  of  some  day  being 
one  of  you,  that  I  shall  not  sleep  for  joy." 

"Stay,  my  boy,  one  last  piece  of  advice.  The  prohibition  to 
recognize  me  unless  I  make  the  sign  concerns  the  other  gentle- 
men and  Madame,  and  even  the  servants  of  the  house.  Abso- 
lute incognito  is  indispensable  to  all  our  undertakings,  and 
we  are  so  constantly  obliged  to  preserve  it  that  we  have  made  it 
a  law  without  exceptions.  We  must  be  unknown,  lost  in  Paris. 


120  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Remember,  too,  my  dear  Godefroid,  the  very  spirit  of  our 
Order,  which  requires  us  never  to  appear  as  benefactors,  but  to 
play  the  obscure  part  of  intermediaries.  We  always  represent 
ourselves  as  the  agents  of  some  saintly  and  beneficent  person- 
age— are  we  not  toiling  for  God? — so  that  no  gratitude  may 
be  considered  due  to  ourselves,  and  that  we  may  not  be  sup- 
posed to  be  rich.  True,  sincere  humility,  not  the  false  hu- 
mility of  those  who  keep  in  the  shade  that  others  may  throw 
a  light  on  them,  must  inspire  and  govern  all  your  thoughts. — 
You  may  rejoice  when  you  succeed ;  but  so  long  as  you  feel  the 
least  impulse  of  vanity,  you  will  be  unworthy  to  join  the 
Brotherhood.  We  have  known  two  perfect  men.  One,  who 
was  one  of  our  founders,  Judge  Popinot;  the  other,  who  was 
known  by  his  works,  was  a  country  doctor  who  has  left  his 
name  written  in  a  remote  parish.  He,  my  dear  Godefroid, 
was  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  our  day ;  he  raised  a  whole  dis- 
trict from  a  savage  state  to  one  of  prosperity,  from  irreligion 
to  the  Catholic  faith,  from  barbarism  to  civilization.  The 
names  of  those  two  men  are  graven  on  our  hearts,  and  we  re- 
gard them  as  our  examples.  We  should  be  happy  indeed  if  we 
might  one  day  have  in  Paris  such  influence  as  that  country 
doctor  had  in  his  own  district. 

"But  here  the  plague-spot  is  immeasurable,  and,  so  far, 
quite  beyond  our  powers.  May  God  long  preserve  Madame, 
and  send  us  many  such  helpers  as  you,  and  then  perhaps  we 
may  found  an  Institution  that  will  lead  men  to  bless  His  holy 
religion. 

"Well,  farewell.     Your  initiation  now  begins. 

"Bless  me !  I  chatter  like  a  Professor,  and  was  forgetting 
the  most  important  matter.  Here  is  the  address  of  the  family 
I  spoke  of,"  he  went  on,  handing  a  scrap  of  paper  to  Gode- 
froid. "And  I  have  added  the  number  of  Monsieur  Berton's 
house  in  the  Rue  de  1'Enfer. — Now,  go  and  pray  God  to  help 
you." 

Godefroid  took  the  good  old  man's  hands  and  pressed  them 
affectionately,  bidding  him  good-night,  and  promising  to  for- 
get none  of  his  injunctions. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  121 

"All  you  have  said/'  he  added,  "is  stamped  on  my  memory 
for  life." 

Alain  smiled  with  no  expression  of  doubt,  and  rose  to  go 
and  kneel  on  his  prie-Dieu.  Godefroid  went  back  to  his  own 
room,  happy  in  being  at  last  allowed  to  know  the  mysteries 
of  this  household,  and  to  have  an  occupation  which,  in  his 
present  frame  of  mind,  was  really  a  pleasure. 

At  breakfast  next  morning  there  was  no  Monsieur  Alain, 
but  Godefroid  made  no  remark  on  his  absence.  Nor  was  he 
questioned  as  to  the  mission  given  him  by  the  old  man;  thus 
lie  received  his  first  lesson  in  secrecy.  After  breakfast,  how- 
ever, he  took  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  aside,  and  told  her  that 
he  should  be  absent  for  a  few  days. 

"Very  well,  my  child,"  replied  Madame  de  la  Chanterie. 
"And  try  to  do  your  sponsor  credit,  for  Monsieur  Alain  has 
answered  for  you  to  his  brethren." 

Godefroid  took  leave  of  the  other  three  men,  who  embraced 
him  affectionately,  seeming  thus  to  give  him  their  blessing 
on  his  outset  in  his  laborious  career. 

Association — one  of  the  greatest  social  forces  which  was 
the  making  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages — is  based  on  feel- 
ings which  have  ceased,  since  1792,  to  exist  in  France,  where 
the  individual  is  now  supreme  over  the  State.  Association 
requires,  in  the  first  place,  a  kind  of  devotedness  which  is  not 
understood  in  this  country ;  a  simplicity  of  faith  which  is  con- 
trary to  the  national  spirit;  and  finally,  a  discipline  against 
which  everything  rebels,  and  which  nothing  but  the  Catholic 
faith  can  exact.  As  soon  as  an  Association  is  formed  in 
France,  each  member  of  it,  on  returning  home  from  a  meet- 
ing where  the  finest  sentiments  have  been  expressed,  makes 
a  bed  for  himself  of  the  collective  devotion  of  this  combina- 
tion of  forces,  and  tries  to  milk  for  his  own  benefit  the  cow 
belonging  to  all,  till  the  poor  thing,  inadequate  to  meet  so 
many  individual  demands,  dies  of  attenuation. 

None  can  tell  how  many  generous  emotions  have  been 
nipped,  how  many  fervid  germs  have  perished,  how  much  re- 


122  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

source  has  been  crushed  and  lost  to  the  country  by  the  shame- 
ful frauds  of  the  French  secret  Societies,  of  the  patriotic  fund 
for  the  Champs  d'Asile  (emigration  to  America),  and  other 
political  swindles,  which  ought  to  have  produced  great  and 
noble  dramas,  and  turned  out  mere  farces  of  the  lower  police 
courts. 

It  was  the  same  with  industrial  as  with  political  associa- 
tions. Self-interest  took  the  place  of  public  spirit.  The 
Corporations  and  Hanseatic  Guilds  of  the  Middle  Ages,  to 
which  we  shall  some  day  return,  are  as  yet  out  of  the  question ; 
the  only  Societies  that  still  exist  are  religious  institutions, 
and  at  this  moment  they  are  being  very  roughly  attacked, 
for  the  natural  tendency  of  the  sick  is  to  rebel  against  the 
remedies  and  often  to  rend  the  physician.  France  knows  not 
what  self-denial  means.  Hence  no  Association  can  hold  to- 
gether but  by  the  aid  of  religious  sentiment,  the  only  power 
that  can  quell  the  rebellion  of  the  intellect,  the  calculations 
of  ambition,  and  greed  of  every  kind.  Those  who  are  in  search 
of  worlds  fail  to  understand  that  Association  has  worlds  in  its 
gift. 

Godefroid,  as  he  made  his  way  through  the  streets,  felt 
himself  a  different  man.  Any  one  who  could  have  read  his 
mind  would  have  wondered  at  the  curious  phenomenon  of  the 
communication  of  the  spirit  of  union.  He  was  no  longer 
one  man,  but  a  being  multiplied  tenfold,  feeling  himself  the 
representative  of  five  persons  whose  united  powers  were  at 
the  back  of  all  he  did,  and  who  walked  with  him  on  his  way. 
With  this  strength  in  his  heart,  he  was  conscious  of  a  fulness 
of  life,  a  lofty  power  that  uplifted  him.  It  was,  as  he  after- 
wards owned,  one  of  the  happiest  moments  of  his  life,  for 
he  rejoiced  in  a  new  sense — that  of  an  omnipotence  more 
absolute  than  that  of  despots.  Moral  force,  like  thought, 
knows  no  limits. 

"This  is  living  for  others/'  said  he  to  himself,  "acting  with 
others  as  if  we  were  but  one  man,  and  acting  alone  as  if  we 
were  all  together!  This  is  having  Charity  for  a  leader,  the 
fairest  and  most  living  of  all  the  ideals  that  have  been  created 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  123 

of  the  Catholic  virtues. — Yes,  this  is  living! — Come,  I  must 
subdue  this  childish  exultation  which  Father  Alain  would 
laugh  to  scorn. — Still,  is  it  not  strange  that  it  is  by  dint  of 
trying  to  annul  my  Self  that  I  have  found  the  power  so  long 
wished  for?  The  world  o*f  misfortune  is  to  be  my  in- 
heritance." 

He  crossed  the  precincts  of  Notre-Dame  to  the  Avenue 
de  1'Observatoire  in  such  high  spirits  that  he  did  not  heed 
the  length  of  the  walk. 

Having  reached  the  Rue  Notre-Dame  des  Champs,  at  the 
end  of  the  Eue  de  1'Ouest,  he  was  surprised  to  find  such  pools 
of  mud  in  so  handsome  a  quarter  of  the  town,  for  neither  of 
those  streets  was  as  yet  paved.  The  foot-passenger  had  to 
walk  on  planks  laid  close  to  the  walls  of  the  marshy  gardens, 
or  creep  by  the  houses  on  narrow  side-paths,  which  were  soon 
swamped  by  the  stagnant  waters  that  turned  them  into 
gutters. 

After  much  seeking,  he  discovered  the  house  described  to 
him,  and  got  to  it,  not  without  some  difficulty.  It  was  evi- 
dently an  old  manufactory  which  had  been  abandoned.  The 
building  was  narrow,  and  the  front  was  a  long  wall  pierced 
with  windows  quite  devoid  of  any  ornament;  but  there  were 
none  of  these  square  openings  on  the  ground  floor — only  a 
wretched  back-door. 

Godefroid  supposed  that  the  owner  had  contrived  a  number 
of  rooms  in  this  structure  to  his  own  profit,  for  over  the 
door  there  was  a  board  scrawled  by  hand  to  this  effect :  Sev- 
eral rooms  to  let.  Godefroid  rang,  but  no  one  came ;  and  as  he 
stood  waiting,  a  passer-by  pointed  out  to  him  that  there  was 
another  entrance  to  the  house  from  the  boulevard,  where  he 
would  find  somebody  to  speak  to. 

Godefroid  acted  on  the  information,  and  from  the  boule- 
vard he  saw  the  front  of  the  house  screened  by  the  trees  of  a 
small  garden-plot.  This  garden,  very  ill-kept,  sloped  to  the 
house,  for  there  is  such  a  difference  of  level  between  the 
boulevard  and  the  Rue  Notre-Dame  des  Champs  as  to  make 
the  garden  a  sort  of  ditch.  Godefroid  went  down  the  path, 


124  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

and  at  the  bottom  of  it  saw  an  old  woman  whose  dilapidated 
garb  was  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  dwelling. 

"Was  it  you  who  rang  in  the  Rue  Notre-Dame  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  madame. — Is  it  your  business  to  show  the  rooms?''* 

On  a  reply  in  the  affirmative  from  this  portress,  whose 
age  it  was  difficult  to  determine,  Godefroid  inquired  whether 
the  house  was  tenanted  by  quiet  folk ;  his  occupations  required 
peace  and  silence;  he  was  a  bachelor,  and  wished  to  arrange 
with  the  doorkeeper  to  cook  and  clean  for  him. 

On  this  hint  the  woman  became  gracious,  and  said : 

"Monsieur  could  not  have  done  better  than  to  hit  on  this 
house;  for  excepting  the  days  when  there  are  doings  at  the 
Chaumiere,  the  boulevard  is  as  deserted  as  the  Pontine 
Marshes " 

"Do  you  know  the  Pontine  Marshes?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"No,  sir;  but  there  is  an  old  gentleman  upstairs  whose 
daughter  is  always  in  a  dying  state,  and  he  says  so. — I  only 
repeat  it.  That  poor  old  man  will  be  truly  glad  to  think  that 
you  want  peace  and  quiet,  for  a  lodger  who  stormed  around 
would  be  the  death  of  his  daughter. — And  we  have  two  writers 
of  some  kind  on  the  second  floor,  but  they  come  in  for  the  day 
at  midnight,  and  then  at  night  they  go  out  at  eight  in  the 
morning.  Authors,  they  say  they  are,  but  I  do  not  know  where 
or  when  they  work." 

As  she  spoke,  the  portress  led  Godefroid  up  one  of  those 
horrible  stairs  built  of  wood  and  brick,  in  such  an  unholy 
alliance  that  it  is  impossible  to  say  whether  the  wood  is 
parting  from  the  bricks  or  the  bricks  are  disgusted  at  being 
set  in  the  wood;  while  both  materials  seem  to  fortify  their 
disunion  by  masses  of  dust  in  summer  and  of  mud  in  winter. 
The  walls,  of  cracked  plaster,  bore  more  inscriptions  than  the 
Academy  of  Belles-lettres  ever  invented. 

The  woman  stopped  on  the  first  floor. 

"Xow,  here,  sir,  are  two  very  good  rooms,  opening  into 
each  other,  and  on  to  Monsieur  Bernard's  landing.  He  is  the 
old  gentleman  I  mentioned — and  quite  the  gentleman.  He 
has  the  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  but  he  has  had  great 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  125 

troubles,  it  would  seem,  for  he  never  wears  it. — When  first 
they  came  they  had  a  servant  to  wait  on  them,  a  man  from  the 
country,  and  they  sent  him  away  close  on  three  years  ago. 
The  lady's  young  gentleman — her  son — does  everything  now; 
he  manages  it  all " 

Godefroid  looked  shocked. 

"Oh !"  said  the  woman,  "don't  be  uneasy,  they  will  say 
nothing  to  you;  they  never  speak  to  anybody.  The  gentle- 
man has  been  here  ever  since  the  revolution  of  July ;  he  came 
in  1831. — They  are  some  high  provincial  family,  I  believe, 
ruined  by  the  change  of  government ;  and  proud !  and  as  mute 
as  fishes. — For  four  years,  sir,  they  have  never  let  me  do  the 
least  thing  for  them,  for  fear  of  having  to  pay. — A  five-franc 
piece  on  Xew  Year's  day,  that's  every  sou  I  get  out  of  them. — 
Give  me  your  authors !  I  get  ten  francs  a  month,  only  to  tell 
everybody  who  comes  to  ask  for  them  that  they  left  at  the 
end  of  last  quarter." 

All  this  babble  led  Godefroid  to  hope  for  an  ally  in  this 
woman,  who  explained  to  him,  as  she  praised  the  airiness  of 
the  two  rooms  and  adjoining  dressing-closets,  that  she  was 
not  the  portress,  but  the  landlord's  deputy  and  housekeeper, 
managing  everything  for  him  to  a  great  extent. 

"And  you  may  trust  me,  monsieur,  I  promise  you !  Ma- 
dame Vauthier — that's  me — would  rather  have  nothing  at 
all  than  take  a  sou  of  anybody  else's." 

Madame  Vauthier  soon  came  to  terms  with  Godefroid,  who 
wished  to  take  the  rooms  by  the  month  and  ready  furnished. 
These  wretched  lodgings,  rented  by  students  or  authors 
"down  on  their  luck,"  were  let  furnished  or  unfurnished,  as 
might  be  required.  The  spacious  lofts  over  the  whole  house 
were  full  of  furniture.  But  Monsieur  Bernard  himself  had 
furnished  the  rooms  he  was  in. 

In  getting  Madame  Vauthier  to  talk,  Godefroid  discovered 
that  her  ambition  was  set  up  in  a  pension  bourgeoise;  but 
in  the  course  of  five  years  she  had  failed  to  meet  with  a  single 
boarder  among  her  lodgers.  She  inhabited  the  ground  floor, 
on  the  side  towards  the  boulevard;  thus  she  was  herself  the 


126  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

doorkeeper,  with  the  help  of  a  big  dog,  a  sturdy  girl,  and  a 
boy  who  cleaned  the  boots,  ran  errands,  and  did  the  rooms, 
two  creatures  as  poor  as  herself,  in  harmony  with  the  squalor 
of  the  house  and  its  inhabitants,  and  the  desolate,  neglected 
appearance  of  the  garden  in  front. 

They  were  both  foundlings,  to  whom  the  widow  Vauthier 
gave  no  wages  but  their  food — and  such  food !  The  boy,  of 
whom  Godefroid  caught  a  glimpse,  wore  a  ragged  blouse,  list 
slippers  instead  of  shoes,  and  sabots  to  go  out  in.  With  a 
shock  of  hair,  as  touzled  as  a  sparrow  taking  a  bath,  and 
blackened  hands,  as  soon  as  he  had  done  the  work  of  the 
house,  he  went  off  to  measure  wood  logs  in  a  woodyard  hard 
by,  and  when  his  day  was  over — at  half-past  four  for  wood- 
sawyers — he  returned  for  his  occupations.  He  fetched  water 
for  the  household  from  the  fountain  by  the  Observatory,  and 
the  widow  supplied  it  to  the  lodgers,  as  well  as  the  faggots 
which  he  chopped  and  tied. 

Nepomucene — this  was  the  name  of  the  widow  Vauthier's 
slave — handed  over  his  earnings  to  his  mistress.  In  summer- 
time the  unhappy  waif  served  as  waiter  in  the  wineshops  by 
the  barriere  on  Sundays  and  Mondays.  Then  the  woman 
gave  him  decent  clothes. 

As  for  the  girl,  she  cooked  under  the  widow's  orders,  and 
helped  her  in  her  trade  work  at  other  times,  for  the  woman 
plied  a  trade ;  she  made  list  slippers  for  peddlers  to  sell. 

All  these  details  were  known  to  Godefroid  within  an  hour, 
for  Madame  Vauthier  took  him  all  over  the  house,  showing 
him  how  it  had  been  altered.  A  silkworm  establishment  had 
been  carried  on  there  till  1828,  not  so  much  for  the  produc- 
tion of  silk  as  that  of  the  eggs — the  seed,  as  it  is  called. 
Eleven  acres  of  mulberry-trees  at  Mont-Rouge,  and  three 
acres  in  the  Rue  de  1'Ouest,  since  built  over,  had  supplied 
food  for  this  nursery  for  silkworms'  eggs. 

Madame  Vauthier  was  telling  Godefroid  that  Monsieur 
Barbet,  who  had  lent  the  capital  to  an  Italian  named  Fres- 
coni  to  carry  on  this  business,  had  been  obliged  to  sell  those 
three  acres  to  recover  the  money  secured  by  a  mortgage  on 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  127 

the  land  and  buildings,  and  was  pointing  out  the  plot  of 
ground,  lying  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rue  Notre-Dame  des 
Champs,  when  a  tall  and  meagre  old  man,  with  perfectly 
white  hair,  came  in  sight  at  the  end  of  the  street  where  it 
crosses  the  Rue  de  1'Ouest. 

"In  the  very  nick  of  time!"  cried  Madame  Vauthier. 
"Look,  that  is  your  neighbor,  Monsieur  Bernard. — Monsieur 
Bernard,"  cried  she,  as  soon  as  the  old  man  was  within  hear- 
ing, "you  will  not  be  alone  now ;  this  gentleman  here  has  just 
taken  the  rooms  opposite  yours " 

Monsieur  Bernard  looked  up  at  Godefroid  with  an  appre- 
hensive eye  that  was  easy  to  read;  it  was  as  though  he  had 
said,  "Then  the  misfortune  I  have  so  long  feared  has  come 
upon  me !" 

"What,  monsieur,"  said  he,  "you  propose  to  reside  here?" 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  said  Godefroid  civilly.  "This  is  no  home 
for  those  who  are  lucky  in  the  world,  and  it  is  the  cheapest 
lodging  I  have  seen  in  this  part  of  the  town.  Madame  Vau- 
thier does  not  expect  to  harbor  millionaires. — Good-day,  then, 
Madame  Vauthier;  arrange  things  so  that  I  may  come  in  at 
six  o'clock  this  evening.  I  shall  return  punctually." 

And  Godefroid  went  off  towards  the  Rue  de  1'Ouest,  walk- 
ing slowly,  for  the  anxiety  he  had  read  in  the  old  man's  face 
led  him  to  suppose  that  he  wanted  to  dispute  the  matter  with 
him.  And,  in  fact,  after  some  little  hesitation,  Monsieur 
Bernard  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  quickly  enough  to 
come  up  with  Godefroid. 

"That  old  wretch !  he  wants  to  hinder  him  from  coming 
back,"  said  Madame  Vauthier  to  herself.  "Twice  already  he 
has  played  me  that  trick. — Patience !  His  rent  is  due  in 
five  days,  and  if  he  does  not  pay  it  down  on  the  nail,  out  he 
goes !  Monsieur  Barbet  is  a  tiger  of  a  sort  that  does  not  need 
much  lashing,  and — I  should  like  to  know  what  he  is  saying 
to  him — Felicite!  Felicite!  you  lazy  hussy,  will  you  make 
haste?"  cried  the  widow  in  a  formidable  croak,  for  she  had 
assumed  an  affable  piping  tone  in  speaking  to  Godefroid. 

The  girl,  a  sturdy,  red-haired  slut,  came  running  out. 


128  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Just  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  everything  for  a  few  seconds, 
do  you  hear  ?  I  shall  be  back  in  five  minutes." 

And  the  widow  Vauthier,  formerly  cook  to  the  bookseller's 
shop  kept  by  Barbet,  one  of  the  hardest  money-lenders  on 
short  terms  in  the  neighborhood,  stole  out  at  the  heels  of  her 
two  lodgers,  so  as  to  watch  them  from  a  distance  and  rejoin 
Godefroid  as  soon  as  he  and  Monsieur  Bernard  should  part 
company. 

Monsieur  Bernard  was  walking  slowly,  like  a  man  in  two 
minds,  or  a  debtor  seeking  for  excuses  to  give  to  a  creditor 
who  has  left  him  to  take  proceedings. 

Godefroid,  in  front  of  this  unknown  neighbor,  turned  round 
to  look  at  him  under  pretence  of  looking  about  him.  And  it 
was  not  till  they  had  reached  the  broad  walk  in  the  Luxem- 
bourg Gardens  that  Monsieur  Bernard  came  up  with  Gode- 
froid and  addressed  him. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times,  monsieur,"  said  he, 
bowing  to  Godefroid,  who  returned  the  bow,  "for  stopping 
you,  when  I  have  not  the  honor  of  knowing  you;  but  is  it 
your  firm  intention  to  live  in  the  horrible  house  where  I  am 
lodging  ?" 

"Indeed,  monsieur " 

"I  know,"  said  the  old  man,  interrupting  Godefroid  with  a 
commanding  air,  "that  you  have  a  right  to  ask  me  what  con- 
cern of  mine  it  is  to  meddle  in  your  affairs,  to  question  you. 
— Listen,  monsieur;  you  are  young,  and  I  am  very  old;  I 
am  older  than  my  years,  and  they  are  sixty-six — I  might  be 
taken  for  eighty ! — Age  and  misfortune  justify  many  things, 
since  the  law  exempts  septuagenarians  from  various  public 
duties;  still,  I  do  not  dwell  on  the  privileges  bestowed  by 
white  hairs;  it  is  you  whom  I  am  concerned  for.  Do  you 
know  that  the  part  of  the  town  in  which  you  think  of  living 
is  a  desert  by  eight  in  the  evening,  and  full  of  dangers,  of 
which  being  robbed  is  the  least?  Have  you  noticed  the  wide 
plots  where  there  are  no  houses,  the  waste  ground  and 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  129 

market  gardens  ? — You  will,  perhaps,  retort  that  I  live  there ; 
but  I,  monsieur,  am  never  out  of  doors  after  six  in  the  even- 
ing. Or  you  will  say  that  two  young  men  are  lodgers  on  thtv 
second  floor,  above  the  rooms  you  propose  to  take ;  but,  mon- 
sieur, those  two  unhappy  writers  are  the  victims  of  writs  out 
against  them;  they  are  pursued  by  their  creditors;  they  are 
in  hiding,  and  go  out  all  day  to  come  in  at  midnight;  and  as 
they  always  keep  together  and  carry  arms,  they  have  no  fear 
of  being  robbed. — I  myself  obtained  permission  from  the  chief 
of  the  police  for  them  each  to  carry  a  weapon." 

"Indeed,  monsieur,"  said  Godefroid,  "I  have  no  fear  of 
robbers,  for  the  same  reasons  as  leave  these  gentlemen  •  in- 
vulnerable, and  so  great  a  contempt  for  life,  that  if  I  should 
be  murdered  by  mistake,  I  should  bless  the  assassin." 

"And  yet  you  do  not  look  so  very  wretched,"  said  the  old 
man,  who  was  studying  Godefroid. 

"I  have  barely  enough  to  live  on,  to  give  me  bread,  and  I 
chose  that  part  of  town  for  the  sake  of  the  quiet  that 
reigns  there. — But  may  I  ask,  monsieur,  what  object  you  can 
have  in  keeping  me  out  of  the  house  ?" 

The  old  man  hesitated;  he  saw  Madame  Vauthier  in  pur- 
suit. Godefroid,  who  was  examining  him  attentively,  was 
surprised  at  the  excessive  emaciation  to  which  grief,  and  per- 
haps hunger,  or  perhaps  hard  work,  had  reduced  him;  there 
were  traces  of  all  these  causes  of  weakness  on  the  face  where 
the  withered  skin  looked  dried  on  to  the  bones,  as  if  it  had 
been  exposed  to  the  African  sun.  The  forehead,  which  was 
high  and  threatening,  rose  in  a  dome  above  a  pair  of  steel- 
blue  eyes,  cold,  hard,  shrewd,  and  piercing  as  those  of  a  sav- 
age, and  set  in  deep,  dark,  and  very  wrinkled  circles,  like  a 
bruise  round  each.  A  large,  long,  thin  nose,  and  the  upward 
curve  of  the  chin,  gave  the  old  man  a  marked  likeness  to  the 
familiar  features  of  Don  Quixote;  but  this  was  a  sinister 
Don  Quixote,  a  man  of  no  delusions,  a  terrible  Don  Quixote. 

The  old  man,  in  spite  of  his  look  of  severity,  betrayed 
nevertheless  the  timidity  and  weakness  that  poverty  gives  to 
the  unfortunate.  And  these  two  feelings  seemed  to  have 


130  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

graven  lines  of  ruin  on  a  face  so  strongly  framed  that  the 
destroying  pickaxe  of  misery  had  rough  hewn  it.  The  mouih 
was  expressive  and  grave.  Don  Quixote  was  crossed  with  the 
President  de  Montesquieu. 

The  man's  dress  was  of  black  cloth  throughout,  but  utterly 
threadbare;  the  coat,  old-fashioned  in  cut,  and  the  trousers 
showed  many  badly-executed  patches.  The  buttons  had  been 
recently  renewed.  The  coat  was  fastened  to  the  chin,  show- 
ing no  linen,  and  a  rusty-black  stock  covered  the  absence  of 
a  collar.  These  black  clothes,  worn  for  many  years,  reeked  of 
poverty.  But  the  mysterious  old  man's  air  of  dignity,  his 
gait,  the  mind  that  dwelt  behind  that  brow  and  lighted  up 
those  eyes,  seemed  irreconcilable  with  poverty.  An  observer 
would  have  found  it  hard  to  class  this  Parisian. 

Monsieur  Bernard  was  so  absent-minded  that  he  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  professor  of  the  college-quarter,  a 
learned  man  lost  in  jealous  and  overbearing  meditation;  and 
Godefroid  was  filled  with  excessive  interest  and  a  degree  of 
curiosity  to  which  his  beneficent  mission  added  a  spur. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  old  man  presently,  "if  I  were  assured 
that  all  you  seek  is  silence  and  privacy,  I  would  say,  'Come 
and  live  near  me.'  Take  the  rooms,"  he  went  on  in  a  louder 
voice,  so  that  the  widow  might  hear  him,  as  she  passed  them, 
listening  to  what  they  were  saying.  "I  am  a  father,  mon- 
sieur, I  have  no  one  belonging  to  me  in  the  world  but  my 
daughter  and  her  son  to  help  me  to  endure  the  miseries  of  life ; 
but  my  daughter  needs  silence  and  perfect  quiet. — Every  one 
who  has  hitherto  come  to  take  the  rooms  you  wish  to  lodge 
in  has  yielded  to  the  reasoning  and  the  entreaties  of  a  heart- 
broken father;  they  did  not  care  in  which  street  they  settled 
of  so  desolate  a  part  of  the  town,  where  cheap  lodgings  are 
plenty  and  boarding-houses  at  very  low  rates.  But  you,  I  see, 
are  very  much  bent  on  it,  and  I  can  only  beg  you,  monsieur, 
not  to  deceive  me;  for  if  you  should,  I  can  but  leave  and 
settle  beyond  the  barrier. — And,  in  the  first  place,  a  removal 
might  cost  my  daughter  her  life,"  he  said  in  a  broken  voice, 
"and  then,  who  knows  whether  the  doctors  who  come  to  at- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  131 

tend  her — for  the  love  of  God — would  come  outside  the 
gates? " 

If  the  man  could  have  shed  tears,  they  would  have  run  down 
his  cheeks  as  he  spoke  these  last  words;  but  there  were  tears 
in  his  voice,  to  us,e  a  phrase  that  has  become  commonplace, 
and  he  covered  his  brow  with  a  hand  that  was  mere  bone  and 
sinew. 

"What,  then,  is  the  matter  with  madame,  your  daughter  ?" 
asked  Godefroid  in  a  voice  of  ingratiating  sympathy. 

"A  terrible  disease  to  which  the  doctors  give  a  variety  of 
names — or  rather,  which  has  no  name. — All  my  fortune 
went " 

But  he  checked  himself,  and  said,  with  one  of  those  move- 
ments peculiar  to  the  unfortunate: 

,  "The  little  money  I  had — for  in  1830,  dismissed  from  a 
high  position,  I  found  myself  without  an  income — in  short, 
everything  I  had  was  soon  eaten  up  by  my  daughter,  who 
had  already  ruined  her  mother  and  her  husband's  family.  At 
the  present  time  the  pension  I  draw  hardly  suffices  to  pay 
for  necessities  in  the  state  in  which  my  poor  saintly  daughter 
now  is. — She  has  exhausted  all  my  power  to  weep. 

"I  have  endured  every  torment,  monsieur;  I  must  be  of 
granite  still  to  live — or  rather,  God  preserves  the  father  that 
his  child  may  still  have  a  nurse  or  a  providence,  for  her 
mother  died  of  exhaustion. 

"Ay,  .young  man,  you  have  come  at  a  moment  when  this 
old  tree  that  has  never  bent  is  feeling  the  axe  of  suffering, 
sharpened  by  poverty,  cutting  at  its  heart.  And  I,  who  have 
never  complained  to  anybody,  will  tell  you  about  this  long  ill- 
ness to  keep  you  from  coming  to  the  house — or,  if  you  insist, 
to  show  you  how  necessary  it  is  that  our  quiet  should  not  be 
disturbed. 

"At  this  moment,  monsieur,  day  and  night,  my  daughter 
barks  like  a  dog !" 

"She  is  mad,  then?"  said  Godefroid. 

"She  is  in  her  right  mind,  and  a  perfect  saint,"  replied 
Monsieur  Bernard.  "You  will  think  I  am  mad  when  I  have 


132  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

told  you  all.  My  only  daughter  is  the  child  of  a  mother  who 
enjoyed  excellent  health.  I  never  in  my  life  loved  but  one 
woman — she  was  my  wife.  I  chose  her  myself,  and  married 
for  love  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  bravest  colonels  in  the 
Imperial  guard,  a  Pole  formerly  on  the  Emperor's  staff,  the 
gallant  General  Tarlovski.  In  the  place  I  held  strict  morality 
was  indispensable;  but  my  heart  is  not  adapted  to  accommo- 
date my  fancies — I  loved  my  wife  faithfully,  and  she  de- 
served it.  And  I  am  as  constant  as  a  father  as  I  was  as  a  hus- 
band ;  I  can  say  no  more. 

"My  daughter  never  left  her  mother's  care ;  no  girl  ever  led 
a  chaster  or  more  Christian  life  than  my  dear  child.  She  was 
more  than  pretty — lovely ;  and  her  husband,  a  young  man  of 
whose  character  I  was  certain,  for  he  was  the  son  of  an  old 
friend,  a  President  of  the  Supreme  Court,  I  am  sure  was  in 
no  way  contributory  to  his  wife's  malady." 

Monsieur  Bernard  and  Godefroid  involuntarily  stood  still 
a  moment  looking  at  each  other. 

"Marriage,  as  you  know,  often  changes  a  woman's  constitu- 
tion/' the  old  man  went  on.  "My  daughter's  first  child  was 
safely  brought  into  the  world,  a  son — my  grandson,  who  lives 
with  us,  and  who  is  the  only  descendant  of  either  of  the 
united  families.  The  second  time  my  daughter  was  expectir^ 
an  infant,  she  had  such  singular  symptoms  that  the  physicians, 
all  puzzled,  could  only  ascribe  them  to  the  singular  condi- 
tions which  sometimes  occur  in  such  cases,  and  which  are 
recorded  in  the  memoirs  of  medical  science.  The  infant  was 
born  dead,  literally  strangled  by  internal  convulsions.  Thus 
began  the  illness — temporary  conditions  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it. — Perhaps  you  are  a  medical  student  ?"  Godefroid  re- 
plied with  a  nod,  which  might  be  either  negative  or  affirma- 
tive. 

"After  this  disastrous  child-bearing,"  Monsieur  Bernard 
went  on — "a  scene  that  made  so  terrible  an  impression  on  my 
son-in-law  that  it  laid  the  foundations  of  the  decline  of  which 
he  died — my  daughter,  at  the  end  of  two  or  three  months, 
complained  of  general  debility,  more  particularly  affecting  her 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  133 

feet,  which  felt,  as  she  described  it,  as  if  they  were  made  of 
cotton.  This  weakness  became  paralysis,  but  what  a  strange 
form  of  paralysis !  You  may  bend  my  daughter's  feet  under 
her,  twist  them  round,  and  she  feels  nothing.  The  limbs 
are  there,  but  they  seem  to  have  no  blood,  no  flesh,  no  bones. 
This  condition,  which  is  unlike  any  recognized  disease,  has 
attacked  her  arms  and  hands ;  it  was  supposed  to  be  connected 
with  her  spine.  Doctors  and  remedies  have  only  made  her 
worse;  my  poor  child  cannot  move  without  dislocating  her 
hips,  shoulders,  or  wrists.  We  have  had  for  a  long  time  an 
excellent  surgeon,  almost  in  the  house,  who  makes  it  his  care, 
with  the  help  of  a  doctor — or  doctors,  for  several  have  seen 
her  out  of  curiosity — to  replace  the  joints — would  you 
believe  me,  monsieur  ? — as  often  as  three  or  four  times  a  day. 

"Ah !  I  was  forgetting  to  tell  you — for  this  illness  has  so 
many  forms — that  during  the  early  weak  stage,  before  paraly- 
sis supervened,  my  daughter  was  liable  to  the  most  extraor- 
dinary attacks  of  catalepsy.  You  know  what  catalepsy  is. 
She  would  lie  with  her  eyes  open  and  staring,  sometimes  in 
the  attitude  in  which  the  fit  seized  her.  She  has  had  the  most 
incredible  forms  of  this  affection,  even  attacks  of  tetanus. 

"This  phase  of  the  disease  suggested  to  me  the  application 
of  mesmerism  as  a  cure  when  I  saw  her  so  strangely  paralyzed. 
Then,  monsieur,  my  daughter  became  miraculously  clairvoy- 
ante,  her  mind  was  subject  to  every  marvel  of  somnambulism, 
as  her  body  is  to  every  form  of  disease." 

Godefroid  was  indeed  wondering  whether  the  old  man  were 
quite  sane. 

"For  my  part,"  he  went  on,  heedless  of  the  expression  of 
Godefroid's  eyes,  "I,  brought  up  on  Voltaire,  Diderot,  and 
Helvetius,  am  a  son  of  the  eighteenth  century,  of  the  Revolu- 
tion ;  and  I  laughed  to  scorn  all  the  records  handed  down  from 
antiquity  and  middle  ages  of  persons  possessed — yes,  and  yet 
possession  is  the  only  explanation  of  the  state  my  child  is  in. 
Even  in  her  mesmeric  sleep  she  has  never  been  able  to  reveal 
the  cause  of  her  sufferings;  she  could  not  see  it;  and  the 
methods  of  treatment  suggested  by  her  under  those  conditions, 


134  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

though  carefully  followed,  have  had  no  good  result.  For  in- 
stance, she  said  she  must  be  wrapped  in  a  freshly-killed  pig; 
then  she  was  to  have  points  of  highly  magnetized  red-hot 
iron  applied  to  her  legs;  to  have  metal  sealing-wax  on  her 
spine. — And  what  a  wreck  she  became ;  her  teeth  fell  out ;  she 
became  deaf,  and  then  dumb ;  and  suddenly,  after  six  months 
of  perfect  deafness  and  silence,  she  recovered  hearing  and 
speech.  She  occasionally  recovers  the  use  of  her  hands  as 
unexpectedly  as  she  loses  it,  but  for  seven  years  she  has  never 
known  the  use  of  her  feet. 

"She  has  sometimes  had  well-defined  and  characteristic  at- 
tacks of  hydrophobia.  Not  only  may  the  sight  or  sound  of 
water,  of  a  glass  or  a  cup,  rouse  her  to  frenzy,  but  she  barks 
like  a  dog,  a  melancholy  bark,  or  howls,  as  dogs  do  at  the 
sound  of  an  organ. 

"She  has  several  times  seemed  to  be  dying,  and  has  re- 
ceived the  last  sacraments,  and  then  come  back  to  life  again 
to  suffer  with  full  understanding  and  clearness  of  mind,  for 
her  faculties  of  heart  and  brain  remain  unimpaired.  Though 
she  is  alive,  she  has  caused  the  death  of  her  husband  and  her 
mother,  who  could  not  stand  such  repeated  trials.  Alas ! — 
Nor  is  this  all.  Every  function  of  nature  is  perverted;  only 
a  medical  man  could  give  you  a  complete  account  of  the 
strange  condition  of  every  organ. 

"In  this  state  did  I  bring  her  to  Paris  from  the  country  in 
1829;  for  the  famous  physicians  to  whom  I  described  the 
case — Desplein,  Bianchon,  and  Haudry — believed  I  was  try- 
ing to  impose  upon  them.  At  that  time  magnetism  was  stoutly 
denied  by  the  schools.  Without  throwing  any  doubt  on  the 
provincial  doctors'  good  faith  or  mine,  they  thought  there  was 
some  inaccurac}r,  or,  if  you  like,  some  exaggeration,  such  as 
is  common  enough  in  families  or  in  the  sufferers  themselves. 
But  they  have  been  obliged  to  change  their  views;  to  these 
phenomena,  indeed,  it  is  due  that  nervous  diseases  have  of  late 
years  been  made  the  subject  of  investigation,  for  this  strange 
case  is  now  classed  as  nervous.  The  last  consultation  held 
by  these  gentlemen  led  them  to  give  up  all  medicine;  they 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  135 

decided  that  nature  must  be  studied,  but  left  to  itself;  and 
since  then  I  have  had  but  one  doctor — the  doctor  who  attends 
the  poor  of  this  district.  In  fact,  all  that  can  be  done  is  done 
to  alleviate  her  sufferings,  since  their  causes  remain  un- 
known." 

The  old  man  paused,  as  if  this  terrible  confession  were  too 
much  for  him. 

"For  five  years  now  my  daughter  has  lived  through  alterna- 
tions of  amendment  and  relapse;  but  no  new  symptoms  have 
appeared.  She  suffers  more  or  less  from  the  various  forms 
of  nervous  attack  which  I  have  briefly  described  to  you;  but 
the  paralysis  of  the  legs  and  organic  disturbances  are  con- 
stant. Our  narrow  means — increasingly  narrow — compelled 
us  to  move  from  the  rooms  I  took  in  1829  in  the  Kue  du 
Eoule;  and  as  my  daughter  cannot  bear  being  moved,  and  I 
nearly  lost  her  twice,  first  in  coming  to  Paris,  and  then  in 
moving  her  from  the  Beaujon  side,  I  took  the  lodging  in 
which  we  now  are,  foreseeing  the  disasters  which  ere  long 
overtook  us;  for,  after  thirty  years'  service,  I  was  kept  wait- 
ing for  my  pension  till  1833.  I  have  drawn  it  only  for  six 
months,  and  the  new  government  has  crowned  its  severities 
by  granting  me  only  the  minimum." 

Godefroid  expressed  such  surprise  as  seemed  to  demand 
entire  confidence,  and  so  the  old  man  understood  it,  for  he 
went  on  at  once,  not  without  a  reproachful  glance  towards 
heaven. 

"I  am  one  of  the  thousand  victims  to  political  reaction.  I 
carefully  hide  a  name  that  is  obnoxious  to  revenge ;  and  if  the 
lessons  of  experience  ever  avail  from  one  generation  to  the 
next,  remember,- young  man,  never  to  lend  yourself  to  the  se- 
verity of  any  side  in  politics.  Not  that  I  repent  of  having 
done  my  duty,  my  conscience  is  at  peace;  but  the  powers  of 
to-day  have  ceased  to  have  that  sense  of  common  responsi- 
bility which  binds  governments  together,  however  dissimilar: 
when  zeal  meets  with  a  reward,  it  is  the  result  of  transient 
fear.  The  instrument,  having  served  its  purpose,  is,  sooner 
or  later,  completely  forgotten.  In  me  you  see  one  of  the 


136  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

staunchest  supporters  of  the  throne  under  the  elder  branch 
of  the  Bourbons,  as  I  was,  too,  of  the  Imperial  rule,  and  I 
am  a  beggar !  As  I  am  too  proud  to  ask  charity,  no  one  will 
ever  guess  that  I  am  suffering  intolerable  ills. 

"Five  days  since,  monsieur,  the  district  medical  officer  who 
attends  my  daughter,  or  who  watches  the  case,  told  me  that 
he  had  no  hope  of  curing  a  disease  of  which  the  symptoms 
vary  every  fortnight.  His  view  is  that  neurotic  patients  are 
the  despair  of  the  Faculty  because  the  causes  lie  in  a  system 
that  defies  investigation.  He  advises  me  to  call  in  a  certain 
Jewish  doctor,  who  is  spoken  of  as  a  quack;  but  at  the  same 
time  he  remarked  that  he  was  a  foreigner,  a  Polish  refugee, 
and  that  physicians  are  extremely  jealous  of  certain  extra- 
ordinary cures  that  have  been  much  talked  of;  some  people 
regard  him  as  very  learned  and  skilful. 

"But  he  is  exacting  and  suspicious ;  he  selects  his  patients, 
and  will  not  waste  time ;  and  then  he  is — a  communist.  His 
name  is  Halpersohn.  My  grandson  has  called  on  him  twice, 
but  in  vain ;  for  he  has  not  yet  been  to  the  house,  and  I  un- 
derstand why." 

"Why?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"Oh,  my  grandson,  who  is  sixteen,  is  worse  clothed  even 
than  I  am ;  and,  will  you  believe  me,  monsieur,  I  dare  not  show 
myself  to  this  doctor;  my  dress  is  too  ill-suited  to  what  is 
expected  in  a  man  of  my  age,  and  of  some  dignity  too.  If  he 
should  see  the  grandfather  so  destitute  as  I  am  when  the 
grandson  has  shown  himself  in  the  same  sorry  plight,  would 
he  devote  due  care  to  my  daughter?  He  would  treat  her  as 
paupers  are  always  treated. — And  you  must  remember,  mon- 
sieur, that  I  love  my  daughter  for  the  grief  she  has  caused  me, 
as  of  old  I  loved  her  for  the  care  she  lavished  upon  me.  She 
has  become  a  perfect  angel.  Alas!  She  is  now  no  more 
than  a  soul — a  soul  that  beams  on  her  son  and  on  me;  her 
body  is  no  more,  for  she  has  triumphed  over  pain. 

"Imagine  what  a  spectacle  for  a  father!  My  daughter's 
world  is  her  bedroom.  She  must  have  flowers  which  she  loves ; 
she  reads  a  great  deal ;  and  when  she  has  the  use  of  her  hands, 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  137 

she  works  like  a  fairy.  She  knows  nothing  of  the  misery  in 
which  we  live.  Our  life  is  such  a  strange  one,  that  we  can  ad- 
mit no  one  to  our  rooms. — Do  you  understand  me,  monsieur  ? 
Do  you  see  that  a  neighbor  is  intolerable?  I  should  have  to 
ask  so  much  of  him  that  I  should  be  under  the  greatest  obliga- 
tions— and  I  could  never  discharge  them.  In  the  first  place, 
I  have  no  time  for  anything:  I  am  educating  my  grandson, 
and  I  work  so  hard,  monsieur — so  hard,  that  I  never  sleep  for 
more  than  three  or  four  hours  at  night." 

"Monsieur,"  said  Godefroid,  interrupting  the  old  man,  to 
whom  he  had  listened  attentively  while  watching  him  with 
grieved  attention,  "I  will  be  your  neighbor,  and  I  will  help 
you " 

The  old  gentleman  drew  himself  up  with  pride,  indeed, 
with  impatience,  for  he  did  not  believe  in  any  good  thing  in 
man. 

"I  will  help  you,"  repeated  Godefroid,  taking  the  old  man's 
hands  and  pressing  them  warmly,  "in  such  ways  as  I  can. — 
Listen  to  me.  What  do  you  intend  to  make  of  your  grand- 
son ?" 

"He  is  soon  to  begin  studying  the  law;  I  mean  him  to  be 
an  advocate." 

"Then  your  grandson  will  cost  you  six  hundred  francs  a 
year,  and  you "  . 

The  old  man  said  nothing. 

"I  have  nothing,"  said  Godefroid  after  a  pause,  "but  I  have 
influence ;  I  will  get  at  the  Jewish  doctor ;  and  if  your  daugh- 
ter is  curable,  she  shall  be  cured.  We  will  find  means  to  repay 
this  Halpersohn." 

"Oh,  if  my  daughter  were  cured,  I  would  make  the  sacri- 
fice that  can  be  made  but  once;  I  would  give  up  what  I  am 
saving  for  a  rainy  day." 

"You  may  keep  that  too." 

"Ah !  what  a  thing  it  is  to  be  young !"  said  the  old  man, 
shaking  his  head.  "Good-bye,  monsieur,  or  rather  au  revoir. 
The  library  is  open,  and  as  I  have  sold  all  my  books,  I  have  to 
go  there  every  day  for  my  work. 


138  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"I  am  grateful  for  the  kind  feeling  you  have  shown;  but 
we  must  see  whether  you  can  show  me  such  consideration  as 
I  am  obliged  to  require  of  a  neighbor.  That  is  all  I  ask  of 
you " 

"Yes,  monsieur,  pray  accept  me  as  your  neighbor;  for 
Barbet,  as  you  know,  is  not  the  man  to  put  up  long  with  empty 
rooms,  and  you  might  meet  with  a  worse  companion  in  misery 
than  I. — I  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  in  me,  only  to  allow  me 
to  be  of  use  to  you/' 

"And  what  interest  can  you  have  in  serving  me?"  cried 
the  old  man,  as  he  was  about  to  go  down  the  steps  of  the 
Cloister  of  the  Carthusians,  through  which  there  was  at  that 
time  a  passage  from  the  broad  walk  of  the  Luxembourg  to  the 
Eue  d'Enfer. 

"Have  you  never,  in  the  course  of  your  career,  obliged 
anybody  ?" 

The  old  man  looked  at  Godefroid  with  knit  brows,  his  eyes 
vague  with  reminiscence,  like  a  man  searching  through  the 
record  of  his  life  for  an  action  for  which  he  might  deserve 
such  rare  gratitude ;  then  he  coldly  turned  away,  after  bowing 
with  evident  suspicion. 

"Come  !  for  a  first  meeting  he  was  not  particularly  distant," 
said  the  disciple  to  himself. 

Godefroid  went  at  once  to  the  Eue  d'Enfer,  the  address 
given  him  by  Monsieur  Alain,  and  found  Doctor  Berton  at 
home — a  stern,  cold  man,  who  surprised  him  greatly  by  assur- 
ing him  that  the  details  given  by  Monsieur  Bernard  of  his 
daughter's  illness  were  absolutely  correct;  he  then  went  in 
search  of  Doctor  Halpersohn. 

The  Polish  physician,  since  so  famous,  at  that  time  lived  at 
Chaillot  in  a  little  house  in  the  Eue  Marbeuf,  of  which  he  oc- 
cupied the  first  floor.  General  Eoman  Zarnovicki  lived  on 
the  ground  floor,  and  the  servants  of  the  two  refugees  occupied 
the  attics  of  the  little  hotel,  only  one  story  high.  Godefroid 
did  not  see  the  doctor;  he  had  been  pent  for  to  some  distance 
in  the  country  by  a  rich  patient.  But  Godefroid  was  almost 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  139 

glad  not  to  have  met  him,  for  in  his  haste  he  had  neglected 
to  provide  himself  with  money,  and  was  obliged  to  return  to 
the  Hotel  de  la  Chanterie  to  fetch  some  from  his  room. 

These  walks,,  and  the  time  it  took  to  dine  in  a  restaurant 
in  the  Rue  de  1'Odeon,  kept  him  busy  till  the  hour  when  he 
was  to  take  possession  of  his  lodgings  on  the  Boulevard  Mont- 
Parnasse.  • 

Nothing  could  be  more  wretched  than  the  furniture  pro- 
vided by  Madame  Vauthier  for  the  two  rooms.  It  seemed  as 
though  the  woman  was  in  the  habit  of  letting  rooms  not  to  be 
inhabited.  The  bed,  the  chairs,  the  tables,  the  drawers,  the 
desk,  the  curtains,  had  all  evidently  been  purchased  at  sales 
under  compulsion  of  the  law,  where  the  money-lender  had 
kept  them  on  account,  no  cash  value  being  obtainable — a  not 
infrequent  case. 

Madame  Vauthier,  her  arms  akimbo,  expected  thanks,  and 
she  took  Godefroid's  smile  for  one  of  surprise. 

"Oh  yes,  I  have  given  you  the  best  of  everything,  my  dear 
Monsieur  Godefroid,"  said  she  with  an  air  of  triumph.  "Look 
what  handsome  silk  curtains,  and  a  mahogany  bedstead  that 
is  not  at  all  worm-eaten.  It  belonged  to  the  Prince  de  Wissem- 
bourg,  and  was  bought  out  of  his  mansion.  When  he  left 
the  Rue  Louis-le-Grand,  in  1809,  I  was  scullery-maid  in  his 
kitchen,  and  from  there  I  went  to  live  with  my  landlord " 

Godefroid  checked  this  confidential  flow  by  paying  his 
month's  lodging  in  advance,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  Ma- 
dame Vauthier  six  francs,  also  in  advance,  for  doing  his 
rooms.  At  this  moment  he  heard  a  bark;  and  if  he  had  not 
been  forewarned,  he  might  have  thought  that  his  neighbor 
kept  a  dog  in  his  lodgings. 

"Does  that  dog  bark  at  night?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  be  easy,  sir,  and  have  patience ;  there  will  not  be  above 
a  week  of  it.  Monsieur  Bernard  will  not  be  able  to  pay  his 
rent,  and  he  will  be  turned  out. — Still,  they  are  queer  folks, 
I  must  say !  I  never  saw  their  dog. — For  months  that  dog — 
for  months,  did  I  say? — for  six  months  at  a  time  you  will 
never  hear  that  dog,  and  you  might  think  they  didn't  keep  one. 


140  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

The  creature  never  comes  out  of  madame's  room.  There  is  a 
lady  who  is  very  bad ;  she  has  never  been  out  of  her  bed  since 
they  carried  her  in.  Old  Monsieur  Bernard  works  very  hard, 
and  his  son  too,  who  is  a  day  pupil  at  the  College  Louis-le- 
Grand,  where  he  is  in  the  top  class  for  philosophy,  and  he  is 
but  sixteen.  A  bright  chap  that !  but  that  little  beggar  works 
like  a  good  'un.  . 

"You  will  hear  them  presently  moving  the  flower  pots  in 
the  lady's  room — for  they  eat  nothing  but  dry  bread,  the  old 
man  and  his  grandson,  but  they  buy  flowers  and  nice  things 
for  her.  She  must  be  very  bad,  poor  thing,  never  to  have 
stirred  out  since  she  came;  and  if  you  take  Monsieur  Ber- 
ton's  word — he  is  the  doctor  who  comes  to  see  her — she  never 
will  go  out  but  feet  foremost." 

"And  what  is  this  Monsieur  Bernard  ?" 

"A  very  learned  man,  so  they  say;  for  he  writes  and  goes 
to  work  in  the  public  libraries,  and  the  master  lends  him 
money  on  account  of  what  he  writes." 

"The  master— who  ?" 

"The  landlord,  Monsieur  Barbet,  the  old  bookseller;  he  has 
been  in  business  this  sixteen  years.  He  is  a  man  from  Nor- 
mand\-,  who  once  sold  salad  in  the  streets,  and  who  started 
as  a  dealer  in  old  books  on  the  quay,  in  1818;  then  he  set  up 
a  little  shop,  and  now  he  is  very  rich. — He  is  a  sort  of  old 
Jew  who  runs  six-and-thirty  businesses  at  once,  for  he  was  a 
kind  of  partner  with  the  Italian  who  built  this  great  barn  to 
keep  silkworms  in " 

"And  so  the  house  is  a  place  of  refuge  for  authors  in 
trouble?"  said  Godefroid. 

"Are  you  so  unluck}r  as  to  be  one  ?"  asked  the  widow  Vau- 
thier. 

"I  am  only  a  beginner,"  said  Godefroid. 

"Oh,  my  good  gentleman,  for  all  the  ill  I  wish  you,  never 
get  any  further !  A  newspaper  man,  now — I  won't  say " 

Godefroid  could  not  help  laughing,  and  he  bid  the  woman 
good-night — a  cook  unconsciously  representing  the  whole 
middle  class. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  141 

As  he  went  to  bed  in  the  wretched  room,  floored  with  bricks 
that  had  not  even  been  colored,  and  hung  with  paper  at  seven 
sous  the  piece,  Godefroid  not  only  regretted  his  little  lodg- 
ing in  the  Rue  Chanoinesse,  but  more  especially  the  society 
of  Madame  de  la  Chanterie.  There  was  a  great  void  in  his 
soul.  He  had  already  acquired  certain  habits  of  mind,  and  he 
could  not  remember  ever  having  felt  such  keen  regrets  for 
anything  in  his  previous  life.  This  comparison,  brief  as  it 
was,  made  a  great  impression  on  his  mind ;  he  understood  that 
no  life  he  could  lead  could  compare  with  that  he  was  about 
to  embrace,  and  his  determination  to  follow  in  the  steps  of 
good  Father  Alain  was  thenceforth  unchangeable.  If  he  had 
not  the  vocation,  he  had  the  will. 

Next  morning,  Godefroid,  whose  new  way  of  life  accus- 
tomed him  to  rising  very  early,  saw,  out  of  his  window,  a 
youth  of  about  seventeen,  wearing  a  blouse,  and  coming  in 
evidently  from  a  public  fountain,  carrying  in  each  hand  a 
pitcher  full  of  water.  The  lad's  face,  not  knowing  that  any 
one  could  see  him,  betrayed  his  thoughts ;  and  never  had  Gode- 
froid seen  one  more  guileless  and  more  sad.  The  charm  of 
youth  was  depressed  by  misery,  study,  and  great  physical 
fatigue.  Monsieur  Bernard's  grandson  was  remarkable  for  an 
excessively  white  skin,  in  strong  contrast  to  very  dark-brown 
hair.  He  made  three  expeditions;  and  the  third  time  he  saw 
a  load  of  wood  being  delivered  which  Godefroid  had  ordered 
the  night  before;  for  the  winter,  though  late,  of  1838  was  be- 
ginning to  be  felt,  and  there  had  been  a  light  fall  of  snow  in 
the  night. 

Nepomucene,  who  had  just  begun  his  day's  work  by  fetching 
this  wood,  on  which  Madame  Vauthier  had  already  levied 
heavy  toll,  stood  talking  to  the  youth  while  waiting  till  the 
sawyer  had  cut  up  the  logs  for  him  to  take  indoors.  It  was 
very  evident  that  the  sight  of  this  wood,  and  of  the  ominous 
gray  sky,  had  reminded  the  lad  of  the  desirability  of  laying  in 
some  fuel.  And  then  suddenly,  as  if  reproaching  himself  for 
waste  of  time,  he  took  up  the  pitchers  and  hurried  into  the 


142  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

house.  It  was  indeed  half-past  seven;  and  as  he  heard  the 
quarters  strike  by  the  clock  at  the  Convent  of  the  Visitation, 
he  reflected  that  he  had  to  be  at  the  College  Louis-le-Grand 
by  half -past  eight. 

At  the  moment  when  the  young  man  went  in,  Godefroid 
opened  his  door  to  Madame  Yauthier,  who  was  bringing  up 
some  live  charcoal  to  her  new  lodger;  so  it  happened  that  he 
witnessed  a  scene  that  took  place  on  the  landing.  A  gardener 
living  in  the  neighborhood,  after  ringing  several  times  at  Mon- 
sieur Bernard's  door  without  arousing  anybody,  for  the  bell 
was  muffled  in  paper,  had  a  rough  dispute  with  the  youth, 
insisting  on  the  money  due  for  the  hire  of  plants  which 
he  had  supplied.  As  the  creditor  raised  his  voice,  Monsieur 
Bernard  came  out. 

"Auguste,"  said  he  to  his  grandson,  "get  dressed.  It  is 
time  to  be  off/' 

He  himself  took  the  pitchers  and  carried  them  into  the 
ante-room  of  his  apartment,  where  Godefroid  could  see  stands 
filled  with  flowers;  then  he  closed  the  door  and  came  outside 
to  talk  to  the  nurseryman.  Godefroid's  door  was  ajar,  for 
Nepomucene  was  passing  in  and  out  and  piling  up  the  logs  in 
the  second  room.  The  gardener  had  become  silent  when  Mon- 
sieur Bernard  appeared,  wrapped  in  a  purple  silk  dressing- 
gown,  buttoned  to  the  chin,  and  looking  really  imposing. 

"You  might  ask  for  the  money  we  owe  you  without  shout- 
ing," said  the  gentleman. 

"Be  just,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  the  gardener.  "You  were 
to  pay  me  week  by  week,  and  now,  for  three  months — ten 
weeks — I  have  had  no  money,  and  you  owe  me  a  hundred  and 
twenty  francs.  We  are  accustomed  to  hire  out  our  plants  to 
rich  people,  who  give  us  our  money  as  soon  as  we  ask  for  it, 
and  I  have  called  here  five  times.  We  have  our  rent  to  pay 
and  our  workmen,  and  I  am  no  richer  than  you  are.  My  wife, 
who  used  to  supply  you  with  milk  and  eggs,  will  not  call  this 
morning  neither;  you  owe  her  thirty  francs,  and  she  would 
rather  not  come  at  all  than  come  to  nag,  for  she  has  a  good 
heart,  has  my  wife !  If  I  listened  to  her,  trade  would  never 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  143 

pay. — And  that  is  why  I  came,  you  understand,  for  that  is  not 
my  way  of  looking  at  things,  you  see " 

Just  then  out  came  Auguste,  dressed  in  a  miserable  green 
cloth  coat,  and  trousers  of  the  same,  a  black  cravat,  and  shabby 
boots.  These  clothes,  though  brushed  with  care,  revealed  the 
very  last  extremity  of  povert}r,  for  they  were  too  short  and 
too  tight,  so  that  they  looked  as  if  the  least  movement  on  the 
lad's  part  would  split  them.  The  whitened  seams,  the  dog's- 
eared  corners,  the  worn-out  button-holes,  in  spite  of  mending, 
betrayed  to  the  least  practised  eye  the  stigmata  of  poverty. 
This  garb  contrasted  painfully  with  the  youthfulness  of  the 
wearer,  who  went  off  eating  a  piece  of  stale  bread,  in  which 
his  fine  strong  teeth  left  their  mark.  This  was  his  breakfast, 
eaten  as  he  made  his  way  from  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Par- 
nasse  to  the  Eue  Saint-Jacques,  with  his  books  and  papers  un- 
der his  arm,  and  on  his  head  a  cap  far  too  small  for  his  power- 
ful head  and  his  mass  of  fine  dark  hair. 

As  he  passed  his  grandfather,  they  exchanged  rapid  glances 
of  deep  dejection ;  for  he  saw  that  the  old  man  was  in  almost 
irremediable  difficulties,  of  which  the  consequences  might  be 
terrible.  To  make  way  for  the  student  of  philosophy,  the  gar- 
dener retreated  as  far  as  Godefroid's  door;  and  at  the  moment 
when  he  reached  the  door,  Xepomucene,  with  a  load  of  wood, 
came  up  to  the  landing,  driving  the  creditor  quite  to  the  win- 
dow. 

"Monsieur  Bernard,"  exclaimed  the  widow,  "uo  you  sup- 
pose that  Monsieur  Godefroid  took  these  rooms  for  you  to  hold 
meetings  in?" 

"I  beg  pardon,  madame,"  replied  the  nurseryman,  "the 
landing  was  crowded " 

"I  did  not  mean  it  for  you,  Monsieur  Cartier,"  said  the 
woman. 

"Stay  here!"  cried  Godefroid,  addressing  the  nurseryman. 
— "And  you,  my  dear  sir,"  he  added,  turning  to  Monsieur 
Bernard,  whom  this  insolent  remark  left  unmoved,  "if  it 
fuits  you  to  settle  matters  with  your  gardener  in  my  room, 
pray  come  in." 


144  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

The  old  gentleman,  stupefied  with  trouble,  gave  Godefroid 
a  stony  look,  which  conveyed  a  thousand  thanks. 

"As  for  you,  my  dear  Madame  Vauthier,  do  not  be  so  rough 
to  monsieur,  who,  in  the  first  place,  is  an  old  man,  and  to 
whom  you  also  owe  your  thanks  for  having  me  as  your  lodger." 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  the  woman. 

"Besides,  if  poor  folks  do  not  help  each  other,  who  is  to 
help  them  ? — Leave  us,  Madame  Vauthier ;  I  can  blow  up  my 
own  fire.  See  to  having  my  wood  stowed  in  your  cellar;  I 
have  no  doubt  you  will  take  good  care  of  it." 

Madame  Vauthier  vanished ;  for  Godefroid,  by  placing  his 
fuel  in  her  charge,  had  afforded  pasture  to  her  greed. 

"Come  in,"  said  Godefroid,  signing  to  the  gardener,  and 
setting  two  chairs  for  the  debtor  and  creditor.  The  old  man 
talked  standing;  the  tradesman  took  a  seat. 

"Come,  my  good  man,"  Godefroid  went  on,  "the  rich  do 
not  always  pay  so  punctually  as  you  say  they  do,  and  you 
should  not  dun  a  worthy  gentleman  for  a  few  louis.  Monsieur 
draws  his  pension  every  six  months,  and  he  cannot  give  you  a 
draft  in  anticipation  for  so  small  a  sum;  but  I  will  advance 
the  money  if  you  insist  on  it." 

"Monsieur  Bernard  drew  his  pension  about  three  weeks 
since,  and  he  did  not  pay  me.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  annoy 
him " 

"What,  and  you  have  been  supplying  him  with  flowers 
for " 

"Yes,  monsieur,  for  six  years,  and  he  has  always  paid  until 
now." 

Monsieur  Bernard,  who  was  listening  to  all  that  might  be 
going  on  in  his  own  lodgings,  and  paying  no  heed  to  this  dis- 
cussion, heard  screams  through  the  partition,  and  hurried 
away  in  alarm,  without  saying  a  word. 

"Come,  come,  my  good  man,  bring  some  fine  flowers,  your 
best  flowers,  this  very  morning,  to  Monsieur  Bernard,  and 
let  your  wife  send  in  some  fresh  eggs  and  milk ;  I  will  pay  you 
myself  this  evening." 

Cartier  looked  somewhat  askance  at  Godefroid. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  145 

''Well,  I  suppose  you  know  more  about  it  than  Madame 
Vauthier ;  she  sent  me  word  that  I  had  better  look  sharp  if  I 
meant  to  be  paid/'  said  he.  "Neither  she  nor  I,  sir,  can  ac- 
count for  it  when  people  who  live  on  bread,  who  pick  up  odds 
and  ends  of  vegetables,  and  bits  of  carrot  and  potatoes,  and 
turnip  outside  the  eating-house  doors — yes,  sir,  I  have  seen 
the  boy  filling  a  little  basket, — well,  when  those  people  spend 
near  on  a  hundred  francs  a  month  on  flowers.  The  old  man, 
they  say,  has  but  three  thousand  francs  a  year  for  his  pen- 
sion  " 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Godefroid,  "if  they  ruin  themselves  in 
flowers,  it  is  not  for  you  to  complain." 

"Certainly  not,  sir,  so  long  as  I  am  paid." 

"Bring  me  your  bill." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  the  gardener,  with  rather  more  re- 
spect. "You  hope  to  see  the  lady  they  hide  so  carefully,  no 
doubt  ?" 

"Come,  come,  my  good  fellow,  you  forget  yourself,"  said 
Godefroid  stiffly.  "Go  home  and  pick  out  your  best  flowers  to 
replace  those  you  are  taking  away.  If  you  can  supply  me  with 
rich  milk  and  new-laid  eggs,  you  may  have  my  custom.  I  will 
go  this  morning  and  look'  at  your  place." 

"It  is  one  of  the  best  in  Paris,  and  I  exhibit  at  the  Luxem-. 
bourg  shows.  I  have  three  acres  of  garden  on  the  boulevard, 
just  behind  that  of  the  Grande-Chaumiere." 

"Very  good,  Monsieur  Cartier.  You  are  richer  than  I  am,  I 
can  see.  So  have  some  consideration  for  us;  for  who  knows 
but  that  one  day  we  may  need  each  other." 

The  nurseryman  departed,  much  puzzled  as  to  what  Gode- 
froid could  be. 

"And  time  was  when  I  was  just  like  that !"  said  Godefroid 
to  himself,  as  he  blew  the  fire.  "What  a  perfect  specimen  of 
the  commonplace  citizen ;  a  gossip,  full  of  curiosity,  possessed 
by  the  idea  of  equality,  but  jealous  of  other  dealers;  furious 
at  not  knowing  why  a  poor  invalid  stays  in  her  room  and  is 
never  seen  :  secretive  as  to  his  profits,  but  vain  enough  to  let 
out  the  secret  if  he  could  crow  over  his  neighbor.  Such  a  man 


146  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

ought  to  be  lieutenant  at  least  of  his  crew.  How  easily  and 
how  often  in  every  age  does  the  scene  of  Monsieur  Dimanche 
recur!  Another  minute,  and  Cartier  would  have  been  my 
sworn  ally !" 

The  old  man's  return  interrupted  this  soliloquy,  which 
shows  how  greatly  Godefroid's  ideas  had  changed  during  the 
past  four  months. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Monsieur  Bernard,  in  a  husky 
voice,  "I  see  you  have  sent  off  the  nurseryman  quite  satisfied, 
for  he  bowed  politely.  In  fact,  my  young  friend.  Providence 
seems  to  have  sent  you  here  for  our  express  benefit  at  the  very 
moment  when  all  seemed  at  an  end  !  Alas !  The  man's  chatter 
must  have  told  you  many  things. — It  is  quite  true  that  I  drew 
my  half-year's  pension  a  fortnight  since;  but  I  had  other  and 
more  pressing  debts,  and  I  was  obliged  to  keep  back  the  money 
for  the  rent  or  be  turned  out  of  doors.  You,  to  whom  I  have 
confided  the  secret  of  my  daughter's  state — who  have  heard 
her " 

He  looked  anxiously  at  Godefroid,  who  nodded  affirmation. 

"Well,  you  can  judge  if  that  would  not  be  her  death-blow. 
For  I  should  have  to  place  her  in  a  hospital. — My  grandson 
and  I  have  been  dreading  this  day,  not  that  Cartier  was  our 
chief  fear ;  it  is  the  cold " 

"My  dear  Monsieur  Bernard,  I  have  plenty  of  wood ;  take 
some !"  cried  Godefroid. 

"But  how  can  I  ever  repay  such  kindness?"  said  the  old 
man. 

"By  accepting  it  without  ceremony,"  answered  Godefroid 
cordially,  "and  by  giving  me  your  entire  confidence." 

"But  what  claims  have  I  on  such  generosity?"  asked  Mon- 
sieur Bernard  with  revived  suspicions.  "My  pride  and  my 
grandson's  is  broken !"  he  exclaimed.  "For  we  have  already 
fallen  so  far  as  to  argue  with  mir  two  or  three  creditors.  The 
very  poor  can  have  no  creditors.  Only  those  can  owe  money 
v.rlio  keep  up  a  certain  external  display  which  we  have  utterly 
lost. — But  I  have  not  yet  lost  my  common  sense,  my  reason," 
he  added,  as  if  speaking  to  himself. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  147 

"Monsieur,"  said  Godefroid  gravely,  "the  story  you  told  me 
yesterday  would  draw  tears  from  an  usurer " 

"No,  no !  for  Barbet  the  publisher,  our  landlord,  speculates 
on  my  poverty,  and  sets  his  old  servant,  the  woman  Vauthier, 
to  spy  it  out." 

"How  can  he  speculate  on  it  ?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"I  will  tell  you  at  another  time,"  replied  the  old  man.  "My 
daughter  may  be  feeling  cold,  and  since  you  are  so  kind,  and 
since  I  am  in  a  situation  to  accept  charity,  even  if  it  were  from 
my  worst  enemy " 

"I  will  carry  the  wood,"  said  Godefroid,  who  went  across 
the  landing  with  half  a  score  of  logs,  which  he  laid  down  in 
his  neighbor's  outer  room. 

Monsieur  Bernard  had  taken  an  equal  number,  and  when 
he  beheld  this  little  stock  of  fuel,  he  could  not  conceal  the 
simple,  almost  idiotic,  smile  by  which  men  rescued  from  mor- 
tal and  apparently  inevitable  danger  express  their  joy,  for 
there  still  is  fear  even  in  their  belief. 

"Accept  all  I  can  give  you,  my  dear  Monsieur  Bernard,  with- 
out hesitation,  and  when  we  have  saved  your  daughter,  and 
you  are  happy  once  more,  I  will  explain  everything.  Till  then 
leave  everything  to  me. — I  went  to  call  on  the  Jewish  doctor, 
but  unfortunately  Halpersohn  is  absent;  he  will  not  be  back 
for  two  days." 

Just  then  a  voice  which  sounded  to  Godefroid,  and  which 
really  was,  sweet  and  youthful,  called  out,  "Papa,  papa !"  in 
an  expressive  tone. 

While  talking  to  the  old  man,  Godefroid  had  already  re- 
marked, through  the  crack  of  the  door  opposite  to  that  on  the 
landing,  lines  of  neat  white  paint,  showing  that  the  sick  wo- 
man's room  must  be  very  different  from  the  others  that  com- 
posed the  lodging.  His  curiosity  was  now  raised  to  the  high- 
est pitch;  the  errand  of  mercy  was  to  him  no  more  than  a 
means;  its  end  was  to  see  the  invalid.  He  would  not  believe 
that  any  one  who  spoke  in  such  a  voice  could  be  horrible  to 
behold. 

"You  are  taking  too  mucn  trouble,  papa,"  said  the  voice. 

"Why  do  not  you  have  more  servants — at  your  age — Dear  me !" 
VOL  16 — 41 


148  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HIS1ORY 

"But  you  know,  dear  Vanda,  that  I  will  not  allow  any  one 
to  wait  on  you  but  myself  or  your  boy." 

These  two  sentences,  which  Godefroid  overheard,  though 
with  some  difficulty,  for  a  curtain  dulled  the  sound,  made  him 
understand  the  case.  The  sick  woman,  surrounded  by  every 
luxury,  knew  nothing  of  the  real  state  in  which  her  father 
and  son  lived.  Monsieur  Bernard's  silk  wrapper,  the  flowers, 
and  his  conversation  with  Cartier  had  already  roused  Gode- 
froid's  suspicions,  and  he  stood  riveted,  almost  confounded, 
by  this  marvel  of  paternal  devotion.  The  contrast  between  the 
invalid's  room  as  he  imagined  it  and  what  he  saw  was  in  fact 
amazing.  The  reader  may  judge: 

Through  the  door  of  a  third  room  which  stood  open,  Gode- 
froid saw  two  narrow  beds  of  painted  wood  like  those  of  the 
vilest  lodging-houses,  with  a  straw  mattress  and  a  thin  upper 
mattress;  on  each  there  was  but  one  blanket.  A  small  iron 
stove  such  as  porters  use  to  cook  on,  with  a  few  lumps  of  dried 
fuel  by  the  side  of  it,  was  enough  to  show  the  destitution  of 
the  owner,  without  other  details  in  keeping  with  this  wretched 
stove. 

Godefroid  by  one  step  forward  could  see  the  pots  and  pans 
of  the  wretched  household — glazed  earthenware  jars,  in  which 
a  few  potatoes  were  soaking  in  dirty  water.  Two  tables  of 
blackened  wood,  covered  with  papers  and  books,  stood  in  front 
of  a  window  looking  out  on  the  Rue  Notre-Dame  des  Champs, 
and  showed  how  the  father  and  son  occupied  themselves  in 
the  evening.  On  each  table  there  was  a  candlestick  of  wrought 
iron  of  the  poorest  description,  and  in  them  candles  of  the 
cheapest  kind,  eight  to  the  pound.  On  a  third  table,  which 
served  as  a  dresser,  there  were  two  shining  sets  of  silver-gilt 
forks  and  spoons,  some  plates,  a  basin  and  cup  in  Sevres  china, 
and  a  knife  with  a  gilt  handle  lying  in  a  case,  all  evidently 
for  the  invalid's  use. 

The  stove  was  alight ;  the  water  in  the  kettle  was  steaming 
gently.  A  wardrobe  of  painted  deal  contained  no  doubt  the 
lady's  linen  and  possessions,  for  he  saw  on  her  father's  bed  the 
clothes  he  had  worn  the  day  before,  spread  by  way  of  a  cover- 
ing. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  149 

Some  other  rags  laid  in  the  same  way  on  his  grandson's  bed 
led  him  to  conclude  that  this  was  all  their  wardrobe ;  and 
under  the  bed  he  saw  their  shoes. 

The  floor,  swept  but  seldom  no  doubt,  was  like  that  of  a 
schoolroom.  A  large  loaf  that  had  been  cut  was  visible  on  a 
shelf  over  the  table.  In  short,  it  was  poverty  in  the  last  stage 
of  squalor,  poverty  reduced  to  a  system,  with  the  decent  order 
of  a  determination  to  endure  it ;  driven  poverty  that  has  to  do 
everything  at  home,  that  insists  on  doing  it,  but  that  finds  it 
impossible,  and  so  puts  every  poor  possession  to  a  wrong  use. 
A  strong  and  sickening  smell  pervaded  the  room,  which  evi- 
dently was  but  rarely  cleaned. 

The  ante-room  where  Godefroid  stood  was  at  any  rate  de- 
cent, and  he  guessed  that  it  commonly  served  to  hide  the  hor- 
rors of  the  room  inhabited  by  the  old  man  and  the  youth.  This 
room,  hung  with  a  Scotch  plaid  paper,  had  four  walnut-wood 
chairs  and  a  small  table,  and  was  graced  with  portraits — a 
colored  print  «of  Horace  Vernet's  picture  of  the  Emperor ; 
those  of  Louis  XVIII.  and  Charles  X.;  and  one  of  Prince 
Poniatowski,  a  friend  no  doubt  of  Monsieur  Bernard's  father- 
in-law.  There  were  cotton  window-curtains  bound  with  red 
and  finished  with  fringe. 

Godefroid,  keeping  an  eye  on  Nepomucene,  and  hearing 
him  come  up  with  a  load  of  wood,  signed  to  him  to  stack  it 
noiselessly  in  Monsieur  Bernard's  ante-room ;  and,  with  a  deli- 
cate feeling  that  showed  he  was  making  good  progress,  he  shut 
the  bedroom  door  that  Madame  Vauthier's  boy  might  not  see 
the  old  man's  squalor. 

The  ante-room  was  partly  filled  up  by  three  flower-stands 
full  of  splendid  plants,  two  oval  and  one  round,  all  three  of 
rosewood,  and  elegantly  finished;  and  Nepomucene,  as  he 
placed  the  logs  on  the  floor,  could  not  help  saying: 

"Isn't  that  lovely  ? — It  must  cost  a  pretty  penny  !" 

"Jean,  do  not  make  too  much  noise —  "  Monsieur  Bernard 
called  out. 

"There,  you  hear  him?"  said  Nepomucene  to  Godefroid, 
"the  poor  old  boy  is  certainly  cracked  1" 


150  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"And  what  will  you  be  at  his  age  ?" 

"Oh,  I  know  sure  enough!"  said  Nepomucene;  "I  shall  be 
in  a  sugar-basin." 

"In  a  sugar-basin  ?" 

"Yes,  my  bones  will  have  been  made  into  charcoal.  I  have 
seen  the  sugar-boilers'  carts  often  enough  at  Mont  Souris 
come  to  fetch  bone-black  for  their  works,  and  they  told  me 
they  used  it  in  making  sugar."  And  with  this  philosophical 
reply,  he  went  off  for  another  basketful  of  wood. 

Godefroid  quietly  closed  Monsieur  Bernard's  door,  leaving 
him  alone  with  his  daughter. 

Madame  Vauthier  had  meanwhile  prepared  her  new  lodger's 
breakfast,  and  came  with  Felicite  to  serve  it.  Godefroid,  lost 
in  meditation,  was  staring  at  the  fire  on  the  hearth.  He  was 
absorbed  in  reflecting  on  this  poverty  that  included  so  many 
different  forms  of  misery,  though  he  perceived  that  it  had  its 
pleasures  too ;  the  ineffable  joys  and  triumphs  of  fatherly  and 
of  filial  devotion.  They  were  like  pearls  sewn  en  sackcloth. 

"What  romance — even  the  most  famous — can  compare  with 
such  reality  ?"  thought  he.  "How  noble  is  the  life  that  mingles 
with  such  lives  as  these,  enabling  the  soul  to  discern  their 
cause  and  effect;  to  assuage  suffering  and  encourage  what  is 
good;  to  become  one  with  misfortune  and  learn  the  secrets  of 
such  a  home  as  this ;  to  be  an  actor  in  ever-new  dramas  such  as 
delight  us  in  the  works  of  the  most  famous  authors ! — I  had 
no  idea  that  goodness  could  be  more  interesting  than  vice." 

"Is  everything  to  your  mind,  sir?"  asked  Madame  Vauthier, 
who,  helped  by  Felicite,  had  placed  the  table  close  to  Gode- 
froid. He  then  saw  an  excellent  cup  of  coffee  with  milk,  a 
smoking  hot  omelette,  fresh  butter,  and  little  red  radishes. 

"Where  did  you  find  those  radishes?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"Monsieur  Cartier  gave  them  to  me,"  said  she.  "I  thought 
you  might  like  them,  sir. 

"And  what  do  you  expect  me  to  pay  for  a  breakfast  like  this 
every  day  ?"  said  Godefroid. 

"Well,  monsieur,  to  be  quite  fair — it  would  be  hard  to  sup- 
ply it  under  thirty  sous." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  151 

"Say  thirty  sous,"  said  Godef  roid.  "But  how  is  it  that  close 
by  this,  at  Madame  Machillot's,  they  only  ask  me  forty-five 
francs  a  month  for  dinner,  which  is  just  thirty  sous  a  day?" 

"Oh,  but  what  a  difference,  sir,  between  getting  a  dinner 
for  fifteen  people  and  going  to  buy  everything  that  is  needed 
for  one  breakfast :  a  roll,  you  see,  eggs,  butter, — lighting  the 
fire — and  then  sugar,  milk,  coffee. — Why,  they  will  ask  you 
sixteen  sous  for  nothing  but  a  cup  of  coffee  with  milk  in  the 
Place  de  1'Odeon,  and  you  have  to  give  a  sou  or  two  to  the 
waiter ! — Here  you  have  no  trouble  at  all ;  you  breakfast  at 
home,  in  your  slippers. 

"Well,  then  it  is  settled,"  said  Godefroid. 

"And  even  then,  but  for  Madame  Cartier,  from  whom  I 
get  the  milk  and  eggs  and  parsley,  I  could  not  do  it  at  all. — 
You  must  go  and  see  their  place,  sir.  Oh,  it  is  really  a  fine 
sight.  They  employ  five  gardeners'  apprentices,  and  Neppmu- 
cene  goes  to  help  with  the  watering  all  the  summer;  they 
pay  me  to  let  him  go.  And  you  make  a  lot  of  money  out  of 
strawberries  and  melons. — You  are  very  much  interested  in 
Monsieur  Bernard,  it  would  seem?"  asked  the  widow  in  her 
sweetest  tones.  "For  really  to  answer  for  their  debts  in  that 
way ! — But  perhaps,  you  don't  know  how  much  they  owe. — 
There  is  the  lady  that  keeps  the  circulating  library  on  the 
Place  Saint-Michel;  she  calls  every  three  or  four  days  for 
thirty  francs,  and  she  wants  it  badly  too.  Heaven  above !  that 
poor  woman  in  bed  does  read  and  read.  And  at  two  sous  a 
volume,  thirty  francs  in  two  months " 

"Is  a  hundred  volumes  a  month,"  said  Godefroid. 

"There  goes  the  old  fellow  to  fetch  madame's  cream  and 
roll,"  the  woman  went  on.  "It  is  for  her  tea  ;  for  she  lives 
on  nothing  but  tea,  that  lady ;  she  has  it  twice  a  day,  and  then 
twice  a  week  she  wants  sweets. — She  is  dainty,  I  can  tell  you  ! 
The  old  boy  buys  her  cakes  and  tarts  at  the  pastry-cook's  in 
the  Rue  de  Buci.  Oh,  when  it  is  for  her,  he  sticks  at  nothing. 
He  says  she  is  his  daughter ! — Where's  the  man  who  would  do 
all  he  does,  and  at  his  age,  for  his  daughter?  He  is  killing 
himself — himself  and  his  Auguste — and  all  for  her. — If  you 


152  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

are  like  me,  sir — I  would  give  twenty  francs  to  see  her.  Mon- 
sieur Berton  says  she  is  shocking,  an  object  to  make  a  show 
of. — They  did  well  to  come  to  this  part  of  the  town  where 
nobody  ever  comes. — And  you  think  of  dining  at  Madame  Ma- 
chillot's,  sir?" 

"Yes,  I  thought  of  making  an  arrangement  with  her." 

"Well,  sir,  it  is  not  to  interfere  with  any  plan  of  yours ;  but, 
take  'em  as  you  find  'em,  you  will  find  a  better  eating-place  in 
the  Rue  de  Tournon ;  you  need  not  bind  yourself  for  a  month, 
and  you  will  have  a  better  table — 

"Where  in  the  Rue  de  Tournon?" 

"At  the  successors  of  old  Madame  Girard.  That  is  where 
the  gentlemen  upstairs  dine,  and  they  are  satisfied — they 
could  not  be  better  pleased." 

"Very  well,  Madame  Vauthier,  I  will  take  your  advice  and 
dine  there." 

"And,  my  dear  sir/'  the  woman  went  on,  emboldened  by  the 
easy-going  air  which  Godefroid  had  intentionally  assumed, 
"do  you  mean  to  say,  seriously,  that  you  are  such  a  flat  as  to 
think  of  paying  Monsieur  Bernard's  debts  ? — I  should  be  really 
very  sorry ;  for  you  must  remember,  my  good  Monsieur  Gode- 
froid, that  he  is  very  near  on  seventy,  and  after  him  where 
are  you  ?  There's  an  end  to  his  pension.  What  will  there  be 
to  repay  you  ?  Young  men  are  so  rash.  Do  you  know  that  he 
owes  above  a  thousand  crowns?" 

"But  to  whom  ?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"Oh,  that  is  no  concern  of  mine,"  said  Madame  Vauthier 
mysteriously.  "He  owes  the  money,  and  that's  enough;  and 
between  you  and  me,  he  is  having  a  hard  time  of  it;  he  can- 
not get  credit  for  a  sou  in  all  the  neighborhood  for  that  very 
reason." 

"A  thousand  crowns !"  said  Godefroid.  "Be  sure  of  one 
thing;  if  I  had  a  thousand  crowns,  I  should  be  no  lodger  of 
yours. _  But  I,  you  see,  cannot  bear  to  see  others  suffering; 
and  for  a  few  hundred  francs  that  it  may  cost  me,  I  will  make 
sure  that  my  neighbor,  a  man  with  white  hair,  has  bread  and 
firing.  Why,  a  man  often  loses  as  much  at  cards. — But  three 
thousand  f  rancs^ — why,  what  do  you  think  ?  Good  Heavens  !" 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  153 

Madame  Vauthier,  quite  taken  in  by  Godefroid's  affected 
candor,  allowed  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  to  light  up  her  face, 
and  this  confirmed  her  lodgers  suspicions.  Godefroid  was 
convinced  that  the  old  woman  was  implicated  in  some  plot 
against  the  hapless  Monsieur  Bernard. 

"It  is  a  strange  thing,  monsieur,  what  fancies  come  into 
one's  head.  You  will  say  that  I  am  very  inquisitive ;  but  yes- 
terday, when  I  saw  you  talking  to  Monsieur  Bernard,  it  struck 
me  that  you  must  be  a  publisher's  clerk — for  this  is  their  part 
of  the  town.  I  had  a  lodger,  a  foreman  printer,  whose  works 
are  in  the  Rue  de  Vaugirard,  and  he  was  named  the  same  name 
as  you " 

"And  what  concern  is  it  of  yours  what  my  business  is  ?"  said 
Godefroid. 

"Lor' !  whether  you  tell  me  or  whether  you  don't,  I  shall 
know  just  the  same,"  said  the  widow.  "Look  at  'Monsieur 
Bernard,  for  instance ;  well,  for  eighteen  months  I  could  never 
find  out  what  he  was;  but  in  the  nineteenth  month  I  discov- 
ered that  he  had  been  a  judge  or  a  magistrate,  or  something  of 
the  kind,  in  the  law,  and  that  now  he  is  writing  a  book  about 
it.  What  does  he  get  by  it  ?  That's  what  I  say.  And  if  he  had 
told  me,  I  should  have  held  my  tongue;  so  there!" 

"I  am  not  at  present  a  publisher's  agent,  but  I  may  be,  per- 
haps, before  long." 

"There,  I  knew  it!"  exclaimed  the  woman  eagerly,  and 
turning  from  the  bed  she  was  making  as  an  excuse  to  stay 
chattering  to  her  lodger.  "You  have  come  to  cut  the  ground 
from  under Well,  well,  'a  nod's  as  good  as  a  wink' " 

"Hold  hard !"  cried  Godefroid,  standing  between  Madame 
Vauthier  and  the  door.  "Now,  tell  me,  what  are  you  paid 
to  meddle  in  this?" 

"Heyday !"  cried  the  old  woman,  with  a  keen  look  at  Gode- 
froid. "You  are  pretty  sharp  after  all !" 

She  shut  and  locked  the  outer  door;  then  she  came  back 
and  sat  down  by  the  fire. 

"On  my  word  and  honor,  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Vauthier,  I 
took  you  for  a  student  till  I  saw  you  giving  your  logs  to  old 


154  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

Father  Bernard.  My  word,  but  you're  a  sharp  one !  By  the 
Piper !  you  can  play  a  part  well !  I  thought  you  were  a  perfect 
flat.  Now,  will  you  promise  me  a  thousand  francs?  For  as 
sure  as  the  day  above  us,  old  Barbet  and  Monsieur  Metivier 
have  promised  me  five  hundred  if  I  keep  my  eyes  open." 

"What  ?  Not  they !  Two  hundred  at  the  very  outside,  my 
good  woman,  and  only  promised  at  that— and  you  cannot  sum- 
mons them  for  payment ! — Look  here ;  if  you  will  put  me  in  a 
position  to  get  the  job  they  are  trying  to  manage  with  Mon- 
sieur Bernard,  I  will  give  you  four  hundred ! — Come,  now, 
what  are  they  up  to?" 

"Well,  they  have  paid  him  fifteen  hundred  francs  on  ac- 
count for  his  work,  and  made  him  sign  a  bill  for  a  thousand 
crowns.  They  doled  it  out  to  him  a  hundred  francs  at  a  time, 
contriving  to  keep  him  as  poor  as  poor. — They  set  the  duns 
upon  him ;  they  sent  Cartier,  you  may  wager." 

At  this,  Godefroid,  by  a  look  of  cynical  perspicacity  that  he 
shot  at  the  woman,  made  it  clear  to  her  that  he  quite  under- 
stood the  game  she  was  playing  for  her  landlord's  benefit.  Her 
speech  threw  a  light  on  two  sides  of  the  question,  for  it  also 
explained  the  rather  strange  scene  between  the  gardener  and 
himself. 

"Oh  yes!"  she  went  on,  "they  have  him  fast;  for  where  is 
he  ever  to  find  a  thousand  crowns !  They  intend  to  offer  him 
five  hundred  francs  when  the  work  is  in  their  hand?  complete, 
and  five  hundred  francs  per  volume  as  they  are  brought  out  for 
sale.  The  business  is  all  in  the  name  of  a  bookseller  these 
gentlemen  have  set  up  in  business  on  the  Quai  des  Augus- 
tins " 

"Oh  yes — that  little — what's-his-name-  ?" 

"Yes,  that's  your  man. — Morand,  formerly  Monsieur  Bar- 
bet's  agent. — There  is  a  heap  of  money  to  be  got  out  of  it,  it 
would  seem." 

"There  will  be  a  heap  of  money  to  put  into  it,"  said  Gode- 
froid, with  an  expressive  grimace. 

There  was  a  gentle  knock  at  the  door,  and  Godefroid,  very 
glad  of  the  interruption,  rose  to  open  it. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  155 

"All  this  is  between  you  and  me,  Mother  Vauthier,"  said 
Godefroid,  seeing  Monsieur  Bernard. 

"Monsieur  Bernard,"  cried  she,  "I  have  a  letter  for  you." 

The  old  man  went  down  a  few  steps. 

"No,  no,  I  have  no  letter  for  you,  Monsieur  Bernard;  I 
only  wished  to  warn  you  against  that  young  fellow  there.  He 
is  a  publisher." 

"Oh,  that  accounts  for  everything,"  said  the  old  man  to 
himself.  And  he  came  back  to  his  neighbor's  room  with  a 
quite  altered  countenance. 

The  calmly  cold  expression  on  Monsieur  Bernard's  face 
when  he  reappeared  was  in  such  marked  contrast  to  the  frank 
and  friendly  manner  his  gratitude  had  lent  him,  that  Gode- 
froid was  struck  by  so  sudden  a  change. 

"Monsieur,  forgive  me  for  disturbing  your  solitude,  but  you 
have  since  yesterday  loaded  me  with  favors,  and  a  benefactor 
confers  rights  on  those  whom  he  obliges." 

Godefroid  bowed. 

"I,  who  for  five  years  have  suffered  once  a  fortnight  the 
torments  of  the  Eedeemer;  I,  who  for  six-and-thirty  years 
•\viis  the  representative  of  Society  and  the  Government,  who 
AV;-S  then  the  arm  of  public  vengeance,  and  who,  as  you  may 
suppose,  have  no  illusions  left — nothing,  nothing  but  suffer- 
ings,— well,  monsieur,  your  careful  attention  in  closing  the 
door  of  the  dog-kennel  in  which  my  grandson  and  I  sleep — 
that  trifling  act  was  to  me  the  cup  of  water  of  which  Bossuet 
speaks.  I  found  in  my  heart,  my  wornout  heart,  which  is  as 
dry  of  tears  as  my  withered  body  is  of  sweat,  the  last  drop  of 
that  elixir  which  in  youth  leads  us  to  see  the  best  side  of  every 
human  action,  and  I  came  to  offer  you  my  hand,  which  I  never 
give  to  any  one  but  my  daughter;  I  came  to  bring  you  the 
heavenly  rose  of  belief,  even  now,  in  goodness." 

"Monsieur  Bernard,"  said  Godefroid,  remembering  good  old 
Alain's  injunctions,  "I  did  nothing  with  a  view  to  winning 
your  gratitude. — You  are  under  a  mistake." 

"That  is  frank  and  above  board,"  said  the  old  lawyer.  "Well, 
that  is  what  I  like.  I  was  about  to  reproach  you.  Forgive 


156  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

me;  I  esteem  you. — So  you  are  a  publisher,  and  you  want  to 
get  my  book  in  preference  to  Messieurs  Barbet,  Metivier,  and 
Morand  ? — That  explains  all.  You  are  prepared  to  deal  with 
me  as  they  were;  only  you  do  it  with  a  good  grace." 

"Old  Vauthier  has  just  told  you,  I  suppose,  that  I  am  a 
publisher's  agent?" 

"Yes,"  said  he. 

"Well,  Monsieur  Bernard,  before  I  can  say  what  we  are 
prepared  to  pay  more  than  those  gentlemen  offer,  I  must  un- 
derstand on  what  terms  you  stand  with  them." 

"Very  true,"  said  the  old  man,  who  seemed  delighted  to  find 
himself  the  object  of  a  competition  by  which  he  could  not 
fail  to  benefit.  "Do  you  know  what  the  work  is?" 

"No ;  I  only  know  that  there  is  something  to  be  made  by  it." 

"It  is  only  half-past  nine;  my  daughter  has  had  her  break- 
fast, my  grandson  Auguste  will  not  come  in  till  a  quarter  to 
eleven.  Cartier  will  not  be  here  with  the  flowers  for  an  hour 
— we  have  time  to  talk,  monsieur — monsieur  who?" 

"Godefroid." 

"Monsieur  Godefroid. — The  book  in  question  was  planned 
by  me  in  1825,  at  a  time  when  the  Ministry,  struck  by  the  con- 
stant reduction  of  personal  estate,  drafted  the  Law  of  Entail 
and  Seniority  which  was  thrown  out.  I  had  observed  many 
defects  in  our  codes  and  in  the  fundamental  principle  of 
French  law.  The  codes  have  been  the  subject  of  many  im- 
portant works ;  but  all  those  treatises  are  essentially  on  juris- 
prudence; no  one  has  been  so  bold  as  to  study  the  results  of 
the  Revolution — or  of  Napoleon's  rule,  if  you  prefer  it — as  a 
whole,  analyzing  the  spirit  of  these  laws  and  the  working  of 
their  application.  That  is,  in  general  terms,  the  purpose  of 
my  book.  I  have  called  it  the  Spirit  of  the  Modern  Laws.  It 
covers  organic  law  as  well  as  the  codes — all  the  codes,  for  we 
have  five !  My  book,  too,  is  in  five  volumes,  and  a  sixth  volume 
of  authorities,  quotations,  and  references.  I  have  still  three 
months'  work  before  me. 

"The  owner  of  this  house,  a  retired  publisher,  scented  a 
speculation.  I,  in  the  first  instance,  thought  only  of  benefit- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  157 

ing  my  country.  This  Barbet  has  got  the  better  of  me. — You 
will  wonder  how  a  publisher  could  entrap  an  old  lawyer;  but 
you,  monsieur,  know  my  history,  and  this  man  is  a  money- 
lender. He  has  the  sharp  eye  and  the  knowledge  of  the  world 
that  such  men  must  have.  His  advances  have  just  kept  pace 
with  my  necessity;  he  has  always  come  in  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  despair  has  made  me  a  defenceless  prey." 

"Not  at  all,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Godefroid.  "He  has  simply 
kept  Madame  Vauthier  as  a  spy. — But  the  terms,  tell  me 
honestly." 

"They  advanced  me  fifteen  hundred  francs,  represented  at 
the  present  rates  by  three  bills  for  a  thousand  francs  each, 
and  these  three  thousand  francs  are  secured  to  them  by  a 
lien  on  the  property  of  my  book,  which  I  cannot  dispose  of 
elsewhere  till  I  have  paid  off  the  bills;  the  bills  have  been 
protested;  judgment  has  been  pronounced. — Here,  monsieur, 
you  see  the  complications  of  poverty. 

"At  the  most  moderate  estimate,  the  first  edition  of  this 
vast  work,  the  result  of  ten  years'  labor  and  thirty-six  years' 
experience,  will  be  well  worth  ten  thousand  francs. — Well, 
just  five  days  since,  Morand  offered  me  a  thousand  crowns 
and  my  note  of  hand  paid  off  for  all  rights. — As  I  could  never 
find  three  thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  francs,  unless  you 
intervene  between  us.  I  must  yield. 

"They  would  not  take  my  word  of  honor;  for  further  se- 
curity they  insisted  on  bills  of  exchange  which  have  been  pro- 
tested, and  I  shall  be  imprisoned  for  debt.  If  I  pay  up,  these 
money-lenders  will  have  doubled  their  loan;  if  I  deal  with 
them,  they  will  make  a  fortune,  for  one  of  them  was  a  paper- 
maker,  and  God  only  knows  how  low  they  can  keep  the  price 
of  materials.  And  then,  with  my  name  on  it,  they  know  that 
they  are  certain  of  a  sale  of  ten  thousand  copies." 

"Why,  monsieur — you,  a  retired  Judge !" 

"What  can  I  say  ?  I  have  not  a  friend,  no  one  remembers 
me ! — And  yet  I  saved  many  heads  even  if  I  sentenced  many 
to  fall ! — And  then  there  is  my  daughter,  my  daughter  whose 
nurse  and  companion  I  am,  for  I  work  only  at  night. — Ah! 


158  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

young  man,  none  but  the  wretched  should  be  set  to  judge  the 
wretched.  I  see  now  that  of  yore  I  was  too  severe." 

"I  do  not  ask  you  your  name,  monsieur.  I  have  not  a 
thousand  crowns  at  my  disposal,  especially  if  I  pay  Halper- 
sohn  and  your  little  bills ;  but  I  can  save  you  if  you  will  pledge 
your  word  not  to  dispose  of  your  book  without  due  notice  to 
me;  it  is  impossible  to  embark  in  so  important  a  matter  with- 
out consulting  professional  experts.  The  persons  I  work  for 
are  powerful,  and  I  can  promise  you  success  if  you  can 
promise  me  perfect  secrecy,  even  from  your  children — and 
keep  your  word." 

"The  only  success  I  care  for  is  my  poor  Vanda's  recovery; 
for,  I  assure  you,  the  sight  of  such  sufferings  extinguishes 
every  other  feeling  in  a  father's  heart;  the  loss  of  fame  is 
nothing  to  the  man  who  sees  a  grave  yawning  at  his  feet -" 

"I  will  call  on  you  this  evening.  Halpersohn  may  come 
home  at  any  moment,  and  I  go  every  day  to  see  if  he  has 
returned. — I  will  spend  to-day  in  your  service." 

"Oh,  if  you  could  bring  about  my  daughter's  recovery,  mon- 
sieur  ,  monsieur,  I  would  make  you  a  present  of  my 

book !" 

"But,"  said  Godefroid,  "I  am  not  a  publisher." 

The  old  man  started  with  surprise. 

"I  could  not  help  letting  old  Vauthicr  think  so  for  the 
sake  of  ascertaining  what  snares  had  been  laid  for  you." 

"But  who  are  you,  then?" 

"Godefroid,"  was  the  reply;  "and  as  you  have  allowed  me 
to  supply  you  with  the  means  of  living  better,"  added  the 
young  man,  smiling,  "you  may  call  me  Godcfroid  de  Bouil- 
lon." 

The  old  lawyer  was  too  much  touched  to  laugh  at  the  jest. 
He  held  out  his  hand  to  Godefroid  and  grasped  the  young 
man's  warmly. 

"You  wish  to  remain  unknown?"  said  Monsieur  Bernard, 
looking  at  Godefroid  with  melancholy,  mixed  with  some  un- 
easiness. 

"If  you  will  allow  me." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  159 

"Well,  do  as  you  think  proper. — And  come  in  this  even- 
ing; you  will  see  my  daughter,  if  her  state  allows." 

This  was  evidently  the  greatest  concession  the  poor  father 
could  make;  and  seeing  Godefroid's  grateful  look,  the  old 
man  had  the  pleasure  of  feeling  that  he  was  understood. 

An  hour  later  Cartier  came  back  with  some  beautiful 
flowers,  replanted  the  stands  with  his  own  hands  in  fresh 
moss,  and  Godefroid  paid  the  bill,  as  he  did  the  subscription 
to  the  lending  library,  for  which  the  account  was  sent  in 
soon  after.  Books  and  flowers  were  the  staff  of  life  to  this 
poor  sick — or  rather,  tormented  woman,  who  could  live  on  so 
little  food. 

As  he  thought  of  this  family  in  the  toils  of  disaster,  like 
that  of  Laocoon — a  sublime  allegory  of  many  lives ! — Gode- 
froid, making  his  way  leisurely  on  foot  to  the  Kue  Marbeuf, 
felt  in  his  heart  that  he  was  curious  rather  than  benevolent. 
The  idea  of  the  sick  woman,  surrounded  with  luxuries  in 
the  midst  of  abject  squalor,  made  him  forget  the  horrible 
details  of  the  strange  nervous  malady,  which  is  happily  an 
extraordinary  exception,  though  abundantly  proved  by  various 
historians.  One  of  our  gossiping  chronicle  writers,  Talle- 
mant  des  Reaux,  mentions  an  instance.  We  like  to  think  of 
women  as  elegant  even  in  their  worst  sufferings,  and  Gode- 
froid promised  himself  some  pleasure  in  penetrating  into  the 
room  which  only  the  physician,  the  father,  and  the  son  had 
entered  for  six  years  past.  However,  he  ended  by  reproaching 
himself  for  his  curiosity.  The  neophyte  even  understood 
that  his  feeling,  however  natural,  would  die  out  by  degrees 
as  he  carried  out  his  merciful  errands,  by  dint  of  seeing 
new  homes  and  new  sorrows.  Such  messengers,  in  fact,  at- 
tain to  a  heavenly  benignity  which  nothing  can  shock  or 
amaze,  just  as  in  love  we  attain  to  a  sublime  quiescence  of 
feeling  in  the  conviction  of  its  strength  and  duration,  by  a 
constant  habit  of  submission  and  sweetness. 

Godefroid  was  told  that  Halpersohn  had  come  home  during 
the  night,  but  had  been  obliged  to  go  out  in  his  carriage  the 


100  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

first  thing  in  the  morning  to  see  the  patients  who  were  wait- 
ing for  him.  The  woman  at  the  gate  told  Godefroid  to  come 
back  next  morning  before  nine. 

Remembering  Monsieur  Alain's  advice  as  to  parsimony 
in  his  personal  expenses,  Godefroid  dined  for  twenty-five  sous 
in  the  Rue  de  Tournon,  and  was  rewarded  for  his  self-denial 
by  finding  himself  among  compositors  and  proof-readers.  He 
heard  a  discussion  about  the  cost  of  production,  and,  join- 
ing in,  picked  up  the  information  that  an  octavo  volume  of 
forty  sheets,  of  which  a  thousand  copies  were  printed,  would 
not  cost  more  than  thirty  sous  per  copy  under  favorable  cir- 
cumstances. He  determined  on  going  to  inquire  the  price 
commonly  asked  for  such  volumes  on  sale  at  the  law  pub- 
lishers, so  as  to  be  in  a  position  to  dispute  the  point  with  the 
publishers  who  had  got  a  hold  on  Monsieur  Bernard,  if  he 
should  happen  to  meet  them. 

At  about  seven  in  the  evening  he  came  back  to  the  Boule- 
vard Mont-Parnasse  along  the  Rue  de  Yaugirard,  the  Rue 
Madame,  and  the  Rue  de  1'Ouest,  and  he  saw  how  deserted 
that  part  of  the  town  is,  for  he  met  nobody.  It  is  true  that 
the  cold  was  severe,  snow  fell  in  large  flakes,  and  the  carts 
made  no  noise  on  the  stones. 

"Ah,  here  you  are,  monsieur !"  said  Madame  Vauthier  when 
she  saw  him.  "If  I  had  known  you  would  come  in  so  earhr, 
I  would  have  lighted  your  fire." 

"It  is  unnecessary,"  replied  Godefroid,  as  the  woman  fol' 
lowed  him ;  "I  am  going  to  spend  the  evening  with  Monsieur 
Bernard." 

"Ah !  very  good.  You  are  cousins,  I  suppose,  that  you  are 
hand  and  glove  with  him  by  the  second  day.  I  thought  per- 
haps you  would  have  liked  to  finish  what  we  were  saying " 

"Oh,  about  the  four  hundred  francs?"  said  Godefroid  in  an 
undertone.  "Look  here.  Mother  Vautier,  you  would  have 
had  them  this  evening  if  you  had  said  nothing  to  Monsieur 
Bernard.  You  want  to  hunt  with  the  hounds  and  run  with 
the  hare,  and  you  will  get  neither;  for,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, you  have  spoiled  my  game — my  chances  are  alto- 
gether ruined " 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  161 

"Don't  you  believe  that,  my  good  sir.  To-morrow,  when 
you  are  at  breakfast " 

"Oh,  to-morrow  I  must  be  off  at  daybreak  like  your  au- 
thors." 

Godefroid's  past  experience  and  life  as  a  dandy  and  jour- 
nalist had  been  so  far  of  use  to  him  as  to  lead  him  to  guess 
that  if  he  did  not  take  this  line,  Barbet's  spy  would  warn 
the  publisher  that  there  was  something  in  the  wind,  and  he 
would  then  take  such  steps  as  would  ere  long  endanger  Mon- 
sieur Bernard's  liberty;  whereas,  by  leaving  the  three 
usurious  negotiators  to  believe  that  their  schemes  were  not  in 
peril,  they  would  keep  quiet. 

But  Godefroid  was  not  yet  a  match  for  Parisian  humanity 
when  it  assumes  the  guise  of  a  Madame  Vauthier.  This  wo- 
man meant  to  have  Godefroid's  money  and  her  landlord's  too. 
She  flew  off  to  Monsieur  Barbet,  while  Godefroid  changed  his 
dress  to  call  on  Monsieur  Bernard's  daughter. 

Eight  o'clock  was  striking  at  the  Convent  of  the  Visita- 
tion, whose  clock  regulated  the  life  of  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood, when  Godefroid,  full  of  curiosity,  knocked  at  his  friend's 
door.  Auguste  opened  it;  as  it  was  Saturday,  the  lad  spent 
his  evening  at  home;  Godefroid  saw  that  he  wore  a  jacket 
of  black  velvet,  black  trousers  that  were  quite  decent,  and 
a  blue  silk  tie;  but  his  surprise  at  seeing  the  youth  so  unlike 
his  usual  self  ceased  when  he  entered  the  invalid's  room.  He 
at  once  understood  the  necessity  for  the  father  and  the  boy  to 
be  presentably  dressed. 

The  walls  of  the  room,  hung  with  yellow  silk,  paneled  with 
bright  green  cord,  made  the  room  look  extremely  cheerful ;  the 
cold  tiled  floor  was  covered  by  a  flowered  carpet  on  a  white 
ground.  The  two  windows,  with  their  handsome  curtains 
lined  with  white  silk,  were  like  bowers,  the  flower-stands 
were  so  full  of  beauty,  and  blinds  hindered  them  from  being 
seen  from  outside  in  a  quarter  where  such  lavishness  was  rare. 
The  woodwork,  painted  white,  and  varnished,  was  touched 
up  with  gold  lines.  A  heavy  curtain,  embroidered  in  tent 
stitch,  with  grotesque  foliage  on  a  yellow  ground,  hung  over 


162  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

the  door  and  deadened  every  sound  from  outside.  This  splen- 
did curtain  had  been  worked  by  the  invalid,  who  embroidered 
like  a  fairy  when  she  had  the  use  of  her  hands. 

Opposite  the  door,  at  the  further  end  of  the  room,  the 
chimney-shelf,  covered  with  green  velvet,  had  a  set  of  very 
costly  ornaments,  the  only  relic  of  the  wealth  of  the  two  fami- 
lies. There  was  a  very  curious  clock ;  an  elephant  supporting 
a  porcelain  tower  filled  with  beautiful  flowers ;  two  candelabra 
in  the  same  style,  and  some  valuable  Oriental  pieces.  The 
fender,  the  dogs,  and  fire-irons  were  all  of  the  finest  work- 
manship. 

The  largest  of  the  three  flower  stands  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  above  it  hung  a  porcelain  chandelier  of  floral 
design. 

The  bed  on  which  the  judge's  daughter  lay  was  one  of  those 
fine  examples  of  carved  wood,  painted  white  and  gold,  that 
were  made  in  the  time  of  Louis  XV.  By  the  invalid's  pillow 
was  a  pretty  inlaid  table,  on  which  were  the  various  objects 
necessary  for  a  life  spent  in  bed ;  a  bracket  light  -for  two 
candles  was  fixed  to  the  wall,  and  could  be  turned  backwards 
and  forwards  by  a  touch.  In  front  of  her  was  a  bed-table, 
wonderfully  contrived  for  her  convenience.  The  bed  was 
covered  with  a  magnificent  counterpane,  and  draped  with  cur- 
tains looped  back  in  festoons;  it  was  loaded  with  books  and  a 
work-basket,  and  among  these  various  objects  Godefroid 
would  hardly  have  discovered  the  sick  woman  but  for  the 
tapers  in  the  two  candle-branches. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  of  her  but  a  very  white  face, 
darkly  marked  round  the  eyes  by  much  suffering;  her  eyes 
shone  like  fire;  and  her  principal  ornament  was  her  splendid 
black  hair,  of  which  the  heavy  curls,  set  out  in  bunches  of 
numerous  ringlets,  showed  that  the  care  and  arrangement  of 
her  hair  occupied  part  of  the  invalid's  day ;  a  movable  mirror 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed  confirmed  the  idea. 

No  kind  of  modern  elegance  was  lacking,  and  a  few  trifling 
toys  for  poor  Van  da's  amusement  showed  that  her  father's 
affection  verged  on  mania. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  163 

The  old  man  rose  from  a  very  handsome  easy-chair  of 
Louis  XV.  style,  white  and  gold,  and  covered  with  needlework, 
and  went  forward  a  few  steps  to  welcome  Godefroid,  who  cer- 
tainly would  not  have  recognized  him;  for  his  cold,  stern 
face  had  assumed  the  gay  expression  peculiar  to  old  men 
who  have  preserved  their  dignity  of  manner  and  the  super- 
ficial frivolity  of  courtiers.  His  purple  wadded  dressing- 
gown  was  in  harmony  with  the  luxury  about  him,  and  he  took 
snuff  out  of  a  gold  box  set  with  diamonds. 

"Here,  my  dear,"  said  Monsieur  Bernard  to  his  daugh- 
ter, "is  our  neighbor  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you."  And  he 
signed  to  his  grandson  to  bring  forward  one  of  two  armchairs, 
in  the  same  style  as  his  own,  which  were  standing  on  each 
side  of  the  fire. 

"Monsieur's  name  is  Godefroid,  and  he  is  most  kind  in 
standing  on  no  ceremony " 

Vanda  moved  her  head  in  acknowledgment  of  Godefroid's 
low  bow;  and  by  the  movement  of  her  throat  as  it  bent  and 
unbent,  he  discovered  that  all  this  woman's  vitality  was 
seated  in  her  head.  Her  emaciated  arms  and  lifeless  hands 
lay  on  the  fine  white  sheet  like  objects  quite  apart  from  the 
body,  and  that  seemed  to  fill  no  space  in  the  bed.  The  things 
needed  for  her  use  were  on  a  set  of  shelves  behind  the  bed, 
and  screened  by  a  silk  curtain. 

"You,  my  dear  sir,  are  the  first  person,  excepting  only  the 
doctors — who  have  ceased  to  be  men  to  me — whom  I  have  set 
eyes  on  for  six  years;  so  you  can  have  no  idea  of  the  interest 
I  have  felt  in  you  ever  since  my  father  told  me  you  were  com- 
ing to  call  on  us.  It  was  passionate,  unconquerable  curiosity, 
like  that  of  our  mother  Eve.  My  father,  who  is  so  good  to 
me ;  my  son,  of  whom  I  am  so  fond,  are  undoubtedly  enough 
to  fill  up  the  vacuum  of  a  soul  now  almost  bereft  of  body; 
but  that  soul  is  still  a  woman's  after  all !  I  recognized  that 
in  the  childish  joy  I  felt  in  the  idea  of  your  visit. — You  will 
do  us  the  pleasure  of  taking  a  cup  of  tea  with  us,  I  hope  ?" 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Godefroid  has  promised  us  the  pleasure 
of  his  company  for  the  evening,"  said  the  old  man,  with  the 

air  of  a  millionaire  doing  the  honors  of  his  house. 
TOL.  16—42 


164  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

Auguste,  seated  in  a  low,  worsted-work  chair  by  a  small 
table  of  inlaid  wood,  finished  with  brass  mouldings,  was  read- 
ing by  the  light  of  the  wax-candles  on  the  chimney-shelf. 

"Auguste,  my  dear,  tell  Jean  to  bring  tea  in  an  hour's 
time." 

She  spoke  with  some  pointed  meaning,  and  Auguste  re- 
plied by  a  nod. 

"Will  you  believe,  monsieur,  that  for  the  past  six  years  no 
one  has  waited  on  me  but  my  father  and  my  boy,  and  I  could 
not  endure  anybody  else.  If  I  were  to  lose  them,  I  should 
die  of  it. — My  father  will  not  even  allow  Jean,  a  poor  old 
Normandy  peasant  who  has  lived  with  us  for  thirty  years — 
will  not  even  let  him  come  into  the  room." 

"I  should  think  not,  indeed !"  said  the  old  man  readily. 
"Monsieur  Godefroid  has  seen  him ;  he  saws  and  brings  in 
the  wood,  he  cooks  and  runs  errands,  and  wears  a  dirty  apron ; 
he  would  have  made  hay  of  all  these  pretty  things,  which  are 
BO  necessary  to  my  poor  child,  to  whom  this  elegance  is  sec- 
ond nature." 

"Indeed,  madame,  your  father  is  quite  right ' 

"But  why?"  she  urged.  "If  Jean  had  damaged  my  room, 
my  father  would  have  renewed  it." 

"Of  course,  my  child ;  but  what  would  have  prevented  me  is 
the  fact  that  you  cannot  leave  it;  and  you  have  no  idea  what 
Paris  workmen  are.  It  would  take  them  more  than  three 
months  to  restore  your  room !  Only  think  of  the  dust  that 
would  come  out  of  your  carpet  if  it  were  taken  up.  Let 
Jean  do  your  room !  Do  not  think  of  such  a  thing. 
By  taking  the  extreme  care  which  only  your  father  and  your 
boy  can  take,  we  have  spared  you  sweeping  and  dust ;  if  Jean 
came  in  to  help,  everything  would  be  done  for  in  a  month." 

"It  is  not  so  much  out  of  economy  as  for  the  sake  of  your 
health,"  said  Godefroid.  "Monsieur  your  father  is  quite 
right." 

"Oh,  I  am  not  complaining,"  said  Vanda  in  a  saucy  tone. 

Her  voice  had  the  quality  of  a  concert;  soul,  action,  and 
life  were  all  concentrated  in  her  eyes  and  her  voice;  for 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  165 

Yanda,  by  careful  practice,  for  which  time  had  certainly 
not  been  lacking,  had  succeeded  in  overcoming  the  difficulties 
arising  from  her  loss  of  teeth. 

"I  am  still  happy,  monsieur,  in  spite  of  the  dreadful  malady 
that  tortures  me ;  for  wealth  is  certainly  a  great  help  in  endur- 
ing my  sufferings.  If  we  had  been  in  poverty,  I  should  have 
died  eighteen  years  ago,  and  I  am  still  alive.  I  have  many 
enjoyments,  and  they  are  all  the  keener  because  I  live  on, 
triumphing  over  death. — You  will  think  me  a  great  chatter- 
box," she  added,  with  a  smile. 

"Madame,"  said  Godefroid,  "I  could  beg  you  to  talk  for 
ever,  for  I  never  heard  a  voice  to  compare  with  yours 
— it  is  music !  Eubini  is  not  more  delightful " 

"Do  not  mention  Rubini  or  the  opera,"  said  the  old  man 
sadly.  "However  rich  we  may  be,  it  is  impossible  to  give  my 
daughter,  who  was  a  great  musician,  a  pleasure  to  which  she 
was  devoted." 

"I  apologize,"  said  Godefroid. 

"You  will  fall  into  our  ways,"  said  the  old  man. 

"This  is  your  training,"  said  the  invalid,  smiling.  "When 
we  have  warned  you  several  times  by  crying,  'Look  out !'  you 
will  know  all  the  blind  man's  buff  of  our  conversation !" 

Godefroid  exchanged  a  swift  glance  with  Monsieur  Ber- 
nard, who,  seeing  tears  in  his  new  friend's  eyes,  put  his  finger 
to  his  lip  as  a  warning  not  to  betray  the  heroic  devotion  he 
and  the  boy  had  shown  for  the  past  seven  years. 

This  devoted  and  unflagging  imposture,  proved  by  the 
invalid's  entire  deception,  produced  on  Godefroid  at  this  mo- 
ment the  effect  of  looking  at  a  precipitous  rock  whence  two 
chamois-hunters  were  on  the  point  of  falling. 

The  splendid  gold  and  diamond  snuff-box  with  which  the 
old  man  trifled,  leaning  over  the  foot  of  his  daughter's  bed, 
was  like  the  touch  of  genius  which  in  a  great  actor  wrings 
from  us  a  cry  of  admiration.  Godefroid  looked  at  the  snuff- 
box, wondering  why  it  had  not  been  sold  or  pawned,  but  he 
postponed  the  idea  till  he  could  discuss  it  with  the  old  man. 

"This  evening,  Monsieur  Godefroid,  my  daughter  was  so 


166  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

greatly  excited  by  the  promise  of  your  visit,  that  the  various 
strange  symptoms  of  her  malady  which,  for  nearly  a  fortnight 
past,  have  driven  us  to  despair,  suddenly  disappeared.  You 
may  imagine  my  gratitude  I" 

"And  mine !"  cried  Vanda,  in  an  insinuating  voice,  with 
a  graceful  inclination  of  her  head.  "You  are  a  deputation 
from  the  outer  world. — Since  I  was  twenty  I  have  not  known 
what  a  drawing-room  is  like,  or  a  party,  or  a  ball ;  and  I  love 
dancing,  I  am  crazy  about  the  play,  and  above  all  about 
music.  Well,  I  imagine  everything  in  my  mind.  I  read 
a  great  deal,  and  my  father  tells  me  all  about  the  gay 
world —  As  he  listened,  Godefroid  felt  prompted  to  kneel 
at  the  feet  of  this  poor  old  man. 

"When  he  goes  to  the  opera — and  he  often  goes — he  de- 
scribes the  dresses  to  me,  and  all  the  singers.  Oh !  I  should 
like  to  be  well  again ;  in  the  first  place,  for  my  father's  sake, 
for  he  lives  for  me  alone,  as  I  live  for  him  and  through  him, 
and  then  for  my  son's — I  should  like  him  to  know  another 
mother.  Oh!  monsieur,  what  perfect  men  are  my  dear  old 
father  and  my  admirable  son ! — Then  I  could  wish  for  health 
also,  that  I  might  hear  Lablache,  Rubini,  Tamburini,  Grisi, 
the  Puritani  too  ! — But " 

"Come,  my  dear,  compose  yourself.  If  we  talk  about  music, 
it  is  fatal !"  said  the  old  father,  with  a  smile. 

And  that  smile,  which  made  him  look  younger,  evidently 
constantly  deceived  the  sick  woman. 

"Well,  I  will  be  good,"  said  Vanda,  with  a  saucy  pout.  "But 
let  me  have  a  harmonium." 

This  instrument  had  lately  been  invented;  it  could,  by  a 
little  contrivance,  be  placed  by  the  invalid's  bed,  and  would 
only  need  the  pressure  of  the  foot  to  give  out  an  organ-like 
tone.  This  instrument,  in  its  most  improved  form,  was  as 
effective  as  a  piano;  but  at  that  time  it  cost  three  hundred 
francs.  Vanda,  who  read  newspapers  and  reviews,  had  heard 
of  such  an  instrument,  and  had  been  longing  for  one  for  two 
months  past. 

"Yes,  madame,  and  I  can  procure  you  one,"  replied  Gode- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  167 

froid  at  an  appealing  glance  from  the  old  man.  "A  friend  of 
mine  who  is  setting  out  for  Algiers  has  a  very  fine  one,  which 
I  will  borrow  of  him;  for  before  buying  one,  you  had  better 
try  it.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  sound,  which  is  strongly 
vibrating,  may  be  too  much  for  you." 

"Can  I  have  it  to-morrow?''  she  asked,  with  the  eagerness 
of  a  Creole. 

"To-morrow !"  objected  Monsieur  Bernard.  "That  is  very 
soon ;  besides,  to-morrow  will  be  Sunday." 

"To  be  sure,"  said  she,  looking  at  Godefroid,  who  felt  as 
though  he  saw  a  soul  fluttering,  as  he  admired  the  ubiquity 
of  Vanda's  eyes. 

Until  now  he  had  never  understood  what  the  power  of  the 
voice  and  eyes  might  be  when  the  entire  vitality  was  concen- 
trated in  them.  Her  glance  was  more  than  a  glance;  it  was 
a  flame,  or  rather  a  blaze  of  divine  light,  a  communicative 
ray  of  life  and  intelligence,  thought  made  visible.  The  voice, 
with  its  endless  intonations,  supplied  the  place  of  movement, 
gesture,  and  turns  of  the  head.  And  her  changing  color,  vary- 
ing like  that  of  the  fabled  chameleon,  made  the  illusion — or, 
if  you  will,  the  delusion — complete.  That  weary  head,  buried 
in  a  cambric  pillow  frilled  with  lace,  was  a  complete  woman. 

Never  in  his  life  had  Godefroid  seen  so  noble  a  spectacle, 
and  he  could  hardly  endure  his  emotions.  Another  grand 
feature,  where  everything  was  strange  in  a  situation  so  full 
of  romance  and  of  horror,  was  that  the  soul  alone  seemed  to 
be  living  in  the  spectators.  This  atmosphere,  where  all  was 
sentiment,  had  a  celestial  influence.  They  were  as  uncon- 
scious of  their  bodies  as  the  woman  in  bed;  everything  was 
pure  spirit.  By  dint  of  gazing  at  these  frail  remains  of  a 
pretty  woman,  Godefroid  forgot  the  elegant  luxury  of  the 
room,  and  felt  himself  in  heaven.  It  was  not  till  half-an-hour 
after  that  he  noticed  a  what-not  covered  with  curiosities,  over 
which  hung  a  noble  portrait  that  Vanda  desired  him  to  look 
at,  as  it  was  by  Gericault. 

"Gericault,"  said  she,  "was  a  native  of  Rouen,  and  his 
family  being  under  some  obligations  to  my  father,  who  was 


168  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

President  of  the  Supreme  Court  there,  he  showed  his  grati- 
tude by  painting  that  masterpiece,  in  which  you  see  me  at  the 
age  of  sixteen." 

"You  have  there  a  very  fine  picture,"  said  Godefroid,  "and 
one  that  is  quite  unknown  to  those  who  have  studied  the  rare 
works  of  that  great  genius." 

"To  me  it  is  no  longer  an  object  of  anything  but  affec- 
tionate regard,"  said  she,  "since  I  live  only  by  my  feelings; 
and  I  have  a  beautiful  life,"  she  went  on,  looking  at  her  father 
with  her  whole  soul  in  her  eyes.  "Oh,  monsieur,  if  you  could 
but  know  what  my  father  is !  Who  would  believe  that  the  au- 
stere and  dignified  Judge  to  whom  the  Emperor  owed  so  much 
that  he  gave  him  that  snuff-box,  and  whom  Charles  X.  re- 
warded by  the  gift  of  that  Sevres  tray" — and  she  looked  at 
a  side-table — "that  the  staunch  upholder  of  law  and  authority, 
the  learned  political  writer,  has  in  a  heart  of  rock  all  the  ten- 
derness of  a  mother  ? — Oh,  papa,  papa  !  Come,  kiss  me — I 
insist  on  it — if  you  love  me." 

The  old  man  rose,  leaned  over  the  bed,  and  set  a  kiss  on 
his  daughter's  high  poetic  brow,  for  her  sickly  fancies  were 
not  invariably  furies  of  affection.  Then  he  walked  up  and 
down  the  room,  but  without  a  sound,  for  he  wore  slippers — 
the  work  of  his  daughter's  hands. 

"And  what  is  your  occupation  ?"  she  asked  Godefroid  after 
a  pause. 

"Madame,  I  am  employed  by  certain  pious  persons  to  take 
help  to  the  unfortunate." 

"A  beautiful  mission !"  said  she.  "Do  you  know  that  the 
idea  of  devoting  myself  to  such  work  has  often  occurred  to 
me?  But  what  ideas  have  not  occurred  to  me?"  said  she, 
with  a  little  shake  of  her  head.  "Pain  is  a  torch  that  throws 
light  on  life,  and  if  I  ever  recover  my  health " 

"You  shall  enjoy  yourself,  my  child,"  the  old  man  put  in. 

"Certainly  I  long  to  enjoy  life,"  said  she,  £(but  should  I  be 
able  for  it? — My  son,  I  hope,  will  be  a  lawyer,  worthy  of  his 
two  grandfathers,  and  he  must  leave  me.  What  is  to  be  done  ? 
— If  God  restores  me  to  life,  I  will  dedicate  it  to  Him. — Oh, 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  169 

not  till  I  have  given  you  both  as  much  of  it  as  you  desire !" 
she  exclaimed,  looking  at  her  father  and  her  boy.  "There 
are  times,  my  dear  father,  when  Monsieur  de  Maistre's  ideas 
work  in  my  brain,  and  I  fancy  I  am  expatiating  some  sin." 

"That  is  what  comes  of  reading  so  much!"  cried  the  old 
man,  visibly  grieved. 

"There  was  that  brave  Polish  General,  my  great-grand- 
father; he  meddled  very  innocently  in  the  concerns  of  Po- 
land  " 

"Now  we  have  come  back  to  Poland !"  exclaimed  Bernard. 

"How  can  I  help  it,  papa?  My  sufferings  are  intolerable, 
they  make  me  hate  life,  and  disgust  me  with  myself.  Well, 
what  have  I  done  to  deserve  them?  Such  an  illness  is  not 
mere  disordered  health;  it  is  a  complete  wreck  of  the  whole 
constitution,  and " 

"Sing  the  national  air  your  poor  mother  used  to  sing;  it 
will  please  Monsieur  Godefroid,  I  have  spoken  to  him  of  your 
voice,"  said  her  father,  evidently  anxious  to  divert  his  daugh- 
ter's mind  from  the  ideas  she  was  following  out. 

Vanda  began  to  sing  in  a  low,  soft  voice  a  hymn  in  the 
Polish  tongue,  which  left  Godefroid  bewildered  with  admira- 
tion and  sadness.  This  melody,  a  good  deal  like  the  long- 
drawn  melancholy  tunes  of  Brittany,  is  one  of  those  poetic 
airs  that  linger  in  the  mind  long  after  being  heard.  As  he 
listened  to  Vanda,  Godefroid  at  first  looked  at  her;  but  he 
could  not  bear  the  ecstatic  eyes  of  this  remnant  of  a  woman 
now  half-crazed,  and  he  gazed  at  some  tassels  that  hung  on 
each  side  of  the  top  of  the  bed. 

"Ah,  ha!"  said  Vanda,  laughing  at  Godefroid's  evident 
curiosity,  "you  are  wondering  what  those  are  for?" 

"Vanda,  Vanda,  be  calm,  my  child !  See,  here  comes  the 
tea. — This,  monsieur,  is  a  very  expensive  contrivance,"  he 
said  to  Godefroid.  "My  daughter  cannot  raise  herself,  nor 
can  she  remain  in  bed  without  its  being  made  and  the  sheets 
changed.  Those  cords  work  over  pulleys,  and  by  slipping  a 
sheet  of  leather  under  her  and  attaching  it  to  rings  at  the 
corners  to  those  ropes,  we  can  lift  her  without  fatiguing  her 
or  ourselves." 


170  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

"Yes,  I  am  carried  up — up !"  said  Vanda  deliriously. 

Auguste  happily  came  in  with  a  teapot,  which  he  set  on  a 
little  table,  where  he  also  placed  the  Sevres  tray,  covered  with 
sandwiches  and  cakes.  Then  he  brought  in  the  cream  and  but- 
ter. This  diverted  the  sick  woman's  mind;  she  had  been  on 
the  verge  of  an  attack. 

"Here,  Vanda,  is  Nathan's  last  novel.  If  you  should  lie 
awake  to-night,  you  will  have  something  to  read." 

"La  Perle  de  Doll  That  will  be  a  love-story  no  doubt. — 
Auguste,  what  do  you  think  ?  I  am  to  have  a  harmonium !" 

Auguste  raised  his  head  quickly,  and  looked  strangely  at 
his  grandfather. 

"You  see  how  fond  he  is  of  his  mother !"  Vanda  went  on. 
— "Come  and  kiss  me,  dear  rogue. — No,  it  is  not  your  grand- 
father that  you  must  thank,  but  Monsieur  Godefroid;  our 
kind  neighbor  promises  to  borrow  one  for  me  to-morrow  morn- 
ing.— What  is  it  like,  monsieur?" 

Godefroid,  at  a  nod  from  the  old  man,  gave  a  long  descrip- 
tion of  the  harmonium  while  enjoying  the  tea  Auguste  had 
made,  which  was  of  superior  quality  and  delicious  flavor. 

At  about  half-past  ten  the  visitor  withdrew,  quite  over- 
powered by  the  frantic  struggle  maintained  by  the  father  and 
son,  while  admiring  their  heroism  and  the  patience  that 
enabled  them,  day  after  day,  to  play  two  equally  exhausting 
parts. 

"Now,"  said  Monsieur  Bernard,  accompanying  him  to  his 
own  door,  "now  you  know  the  life  I  lead !  At  every  hour  I 
have  to  endure  the  alarms  of  a  robber,  on  the  alert  for  every- 
thing. One  word,  one  look  might  kill  my  daughter.  One 
toy  removed  from  those  she  is  accustomed  to  see  about  her 
would  reveal  everything  to  her,  for  mind  sees  through  walls." 

"Monsieur,"  said  Godefroid,  "on  Monday  Halpersohn  will 
pronounce  his  opinion  on  your  daughter,  for  he  is  at  home 
again.  I  doubt  whether  science  can  restore  her  frame." 

"Oh,  I  do  not  count  upon  it,"  said  the  old  man  with  a  sigh. 
"If  they  will  only  make  her  life  endurable. — I  trusted  to  your 
tact,  monsieur,  and  I  want  to  thank  you,  for  you  understood. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  171 

— Ah !  the  attack  has  come  on !"  cried  he,  hearing  a  scream. 

"She  has  done  too  much " 

He  pressed  Godefroid's  hand  and  hurried  away. 

At  eight  next  morning  Godefroid  knocked  at  the  fa- 
mous doctor's  door.  He  was  shown  up  by  the  servant  to  a 
room  on  the  first  floor  of  the  house,  which  he  had  had  time 
to  examine  while  the  porter  found  the  man-servant. 

Happily,  Godefroid's  punctuality  had  saved  him  the  vexa- 
tion of  waiting,  as  he  had  hoped  it  might.  He  was  evidently 
the  first-comer.  He  was  led  through  a  very  plain  ante-room 
into  a  large  study,  where  he  found  an  old  man  in  a  dressing- 
gown,  smoking  a  long  pipe.  The  dressing-gown,  of  black 
moreen,  was  shiny  with  wear,  and  dated  from  the  time  of 
the  Polish  dispersion. 

"What  can  I  do -to  serve  you?"  said  the  Jew,  "for  you  are 
not  ill." 

And  he  fixed  Godefroid  with  a  look  that  had  all  the  sharp 
inquisitiveness  of  the  Polish  Jew,  eyes  which  seem  to  have 
ears. 

To  Godefroid's  great  surprise,  Halpersohn  was  a  man  of 
fifty-six,  with  short  bow-legs  and  a  broad,  powerful  frame. 
There  was  an  Oriental  stamp  about  the  man,  and  his  face  must 
in  youth  have  been  singularly  handsome;  the  remains  showed 
a  marked  Jewish  nose,  as  long  and  as  curved  as  a  Damas- 
cus scimitar.  His  forehead  was  truly  Polish,  broad  and  lofty, 
wrinkled  all  over  like  crumpled  paper,  and  recalling  that  of 
a  Saint-Joseph  by  some  old  Italian  master.  His  eyes  were 
sea-green,  set  like  a  parrot's  in  puckered  gray  lids,  and  ex- 
pressive of  cunning  and  avarice  in  the  highest  degree.  His 
mouth,  thin  and  straight,  like  a  cut  in  his  face,  lent  this  sin- 
ister countenance  a  crowning  touch  of  suspiciousness. 

The  pale,  lean  features — for  Halpersohn  was  extraor- 
dinarily thin — were  crowned  by  ill-kept  gray  hair,  and  graced 
by  a  very  thick,  long  beard,  black  streaked  with  white,  that 
hid  half  his  face,  so  that  only  the  forehead  and  eyes,  the 
cheek-bones,  nose,  and  lips  were  visible. 


r»   •  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

This  man,  a  friend  of  the  agitator  Lelcwel.  wore  a  black 
velvet  cap  that  came  down  in  a  point  on  his  forehead  and 
showed  off  its  mellow  hue,  worthy  of  Kembrandt's  brush. 

The  doctor,  who  subsequently  became  equally  famous  for 
his  talents  and  his  avarice,  startled  Godefroid  by  his  ques- 
tion, and  the  young  man  asked  himself,  "Can  he  take  me  for 
a  thief?" 

The  reply  to  the  question  was  evident  on  the  doctor's  table 
and  chimney-piece.  Godefroid  had  fancied  himself  the  first- 
comer — he  was  the  last.  His  patients  had  laid  very  handsome 
sums  on  the  table  and  shelf,  for  Godefroid  saw  piles  of 
twenty  and  forty-franc  pieces  and  two  thousand-franc  notes. 
Was  all  this  the  fruit  of  a  single  morning?  He  greatly 
doubted  it,  and  he  suspected  an  ingenious  trick.  The  infallible 
but  money-loving  doctor  perhaps  tried  thus  to  encourage  his 
patients'  liberality,  and  to  make  his  rich  'clients  believe  that 
he  was  given  banknotes  as  if  they  were  curl-papers. 

Moise  Halpersohn  was  no  doubt  largely  paid,  for  he  cured 
his  patients,  and  cured  them  of  those  very  complaints  which 
the  profession  gave  up  in  despair.  It  is  very 'little  known  in 
Western  Europe  that  the  Slav  nations  possess  a  store  of  med- 
ical secrets.  They  have  a  number  of  sovereign  remedies  de- 
rived from  their  intercourse  with  the  Chinese,  the  Persians, 
the  Cossacks,  the  Turks,  and  the  Tartars.  Some  peasant  wo- 
men, regarded  as  witches,  have  been  known  to  cure  hydro- 
phobia completely  in  Poland  with  the  juice  of  certain  plants. 
There  is  among  those  nations  a  great  mass  of  uncodified  in- 
formation as  to  the  effects  of  certain  plants  and  the  powdered 
bark  of  trees,  which  is  handed  down  from  family  to  family, 
and  miraculous  cures  are  effected  there. 

Halpersohn,  who  for  five  or  six  years  was  regarded  as  a 
charlatan,  with  his  powders  and  mixtures,  had  the  innate  in- 
stinct of  a  great  healer.  Not  only  was  he  learned,  he  had  ob- 
served with  great  care,  and  had  traveled  all  over  Germany, 
Russia,  Persia,  and  Turkey,  where  he  had  picked  up  much 
traditional  lore;  and  as  he  was  learned  in  chemistry,  he  be- 
came a  living  encyclopedia  of  the  secrets  preserved  by  "the 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  173 

good  women,"  as  they  were  called,  the  midwives  and  "wise 
women"  of  every  country  whither  he  had  followed  his  father, 
a  wandering  trader. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  scene  in  Richard  in  Pales- 
tine, in  which  Saladin  cures  the  King  of  England,  is  pure  fic- 
tion. Halpersohn  has  a  little  silk  bag,  which  he  soaks  in  water 
till  it  is  faintly  colored,  and  certain  fevers  yield  to  this  infu- 
sion taken  by  the  patient.  The  virtues  residing  in  plants  are 
infinitely  various,  according  to  him,  and  the  most  terrible 
maladies  admit  of  cure.  He,  however,  like  his  brother  physi- 
cians, pauses  sometimes  before  the  incomprehensible.  Halper- 
sohn admires  the  invention  of  homoeopathy,  less  for  its  med- 
ical system  than  for  its  therapeutics;  he  was  at  that  time  in 
correspondence  with  Hedenius  of  Dresden,  Chelius  of  Heidel- 
berg, and  the  other  famous  Germans,  but  keeping  his  own 
hand  dark  though  it  was  full  of  discoveries.  He  would  have 
no  pupils. 

The  setting  of  this  figure,  which  might  have  stepped  out  of 
a  picture  by  Rembrandt,  was  quite  in  harmony  with  it.  The 
study,  hung  with  green  flock  paper,  was  poorly  furnished 
with  a  green  divan.  The  carpet,  also  of  moss  green,  showed 
the  thread.  A  large  armchair  covered  with  black  leather, 
for  the  patients,  stood  near  the  window,  which  was  hung  with 
green  curtains.  The  doctor's  seat  was  a  stud}^-chair  with 
arms,  in  the  Roman  style,  of  mahogany  with  a  green  leather 
seat.  Besides  the  chimney-piece  and  the  long  table  at  which 
he  wrote,  there  was  in  the  middle  of  the  wall  opposite  the 
fireplace  a  oommon  iron  chest  supporting  a  clock  of  Vienna 
granite,  on  which  stood  a  bronze  group  of  Love  sporting  with 
Death,  the  gift  of  a  famous  German  sculptor  whom  Halper- 
sohn had,  no  doubt,  cured.  A  tazza  between  two  candlesticks 
was  all  the  ornament  of  the  chimney-shelf.  Two  bracket 
shelves,  one  at  each  end  of  the  divan,  served  to  place  trays  on, 
and  Godefroid  noted  that  there  were  silver  bowls  on  them, 
water-bottles,  and  table-napkins. 

Tti's  simplicity,  verging  on  bareness,  struck  Godefroid,  who 
took  everything  in  at  a  glance,  and  he  recovered  his  presence 
of  mind. 


174  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"I  am  perfectly  well,  monsieur.  I  have  not  come  to  consult 
you  myself,  but  on  behalf  of  a  lady  whom  you  ought  long  since 
to  have  seen — a  lady  living  on  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Par- 
nasse." 

"Oh  yes,  that  lady  has  sent  her  son  to  me  several  times. 
Well,  monsieur,  tell  her  to  come  to  see  me?" 

"Tell  her  to  come!"  cried  Godefroid  indignantly.  "Why, 
monsieur,  she  cannot  be  lifted  from  her  bed  to  a  sofa;  she 
has  to  be  raised  by  straps." 

"You  are  not  a  doctor?"  asked  the  Jew,  with  a  singular 
grimace  which  made  his  face  look  even  more  wicked. 

"If  Baron  de  Nucingen  sent  to  tell  you  that  he  was  ill  and 
to  ask  you  to  visit  him,  would  you  reply,  'Tell  him  to  come  to 
me'  ?" ' 

"I  should  go  to  him,"  said  the  Jew  drily,  as  he  spat  into  a 
Dutch  spittoon  made  of  mahogany  and  filled  with  sand. 

"You  would  go  to  him,"  Godefroid  said  mildly,  "because 
the  Baron  has  two  millions  a  year,  and — 

"Nothing  else  has  to  do  with  the  matter.    I  should  go." 

"Very  well,  monsieur,  you  may  come  and  see  the  lady  on 
the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Parnasse  for  the  same  reason.  Though 
I  have  not  such  a  fortune  as  the  Baron  de  Xucingen,  T  am  here 
to  tell  you  that  you  can  name  your  own  price  for  the  cure, 
or,  if  you  fail,  for  your  care  of  her.  I  am  prepared  to  pay 
you  in  advance.  But  how  is  it,  monsieur,  that  you,  a  Polish 
exile,  a  communist,  I  believe,  will  make  no  sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  Poland !  For  this  lady  is  the  granddaughter  of  Gen- 
eral Tarlovski,  Prince  Poniatowski's  friend — 

"Monsieur,  you  came  to  ask  me  to  prescribe  for  this  lady, 
and  not  to  give  me  your  advice.  In  Poland  I  am  a  Pole;  in 
Paris  a  Parisian.  Every  one  does  good  in  his  own  way,  and 
you  may  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  the  greed  attributed 
to  me  has  its  good  reasons.  The  money  I  accumulate  has 
its  uses ;  it  is  sacred.  I  sell  health ;  rich  persons  can  pay  for 
it,  and  I  make  them  buy  it.  The  poor  have  their  physicians. 
— If  I  had  no  aim  in  view,  I  snould  not  practise  medicine. 
I  live  soberly,  and  I  spend  my  time  in  rushing  from  one  to  an- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  175 

other .  I  am  by  nature  lazy,  and  I  used  to  be  a  gambler.  You 
may  draw  your  own  conclusions,  young  man! — You  are  not 
old  enough  to  judge  the  aged !" 

Godefroid  kept  silence. 

:'You  live  with  the  granddaughter  of  the  foolhardy  soldier 
who  had  no  courage  but  for  fighting,  and  who  betrayed  his 
country  to  Catherine  II.?" 

"Yes,  monsieur." 

"Then  be  at  home  on  Monday  at  three  o'clock,"  said  he, 
laying  down'his  pipe  and  taking  up  his  notebook,  in  which  he 
wrote  a  few  words.  "When  I  call,  you  will  please  to  pay  me 
two  hundred  francs ;  then,  if  I  undertake  to  cure  her,  you  will 
give  me  a  thousand  crowns. — I  have  been  told,"  he  went  on, 
"that  the  lady  is  shrunken  as  if  she  had  fallen  in  the  fire." 

"It  is  a  case,  monsieur,  if  you  will  believe  the  first  physi- 
cians of  Paris,  of  nervous  disease,  with  symptoms  so  strange 
that  no  one  can  imagine  them  who  has  not  seen  them." 

"Ah.  yes,  now  I  remember  the  details  given  me  by  that 
little  fellow. — Till  to-morrow,  monsieur." 

Godefroid  left  with  a  bow  to  this  singular  and  extraordinary 
man.  There  was  nothing  about  him  to  show  or  suggest  a 
medical  man,  not  even  in  that  bare  consulting-room,  where 
the  only  article  of  furniture  that  was  at  all  remarkable  was 
the  ponderous  chest,  made  by  Huret  or  Fichet. 

Godefroid  'reached  the  Passage  Vivienne  in  time  to  pur- 
chase a  splendid  harmonium  before  the  shop  was  shut,  and 
he  despatched  it  forthwith  to  Monsieur  Bernard,  whose  ad- 
dress he  gave. 

Then  he  went  to  the  Rue  Chanoinesse,  passing  along  the 
Quai  des  Augustins,  where  he  hoped  still  to  find  a  bookseller's 
shop  open ;  he  was,  in  fact,  so  fortunate,  and  had  a  long  con- 
versation on  the  cost  of  law-books,  with  the  clerk  in  chiu-ge. 

He  found  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  and  her  friend  just 
come  in  from  high  mass,  and  he  answered  her  first  inquiring 
glance  with  a  significant  shake. 

"And  our  dear  Father  Alain  is  not  with  you  ?"  said  he. 

"He  will  not  be  here  this  Sunday,''  replied  Madame  de  la 


176  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

Chanterie.  "You  will  not  find  him  here  till  this  day  week, 
unless  you  go  to  the  place  where  you  know  you  can  meet  him." 

"Madame,"  said  Godefroid,  in  an  undertone,  "you  know  I 
am  less  afraid  of  him  than  of  these  gentlemen,  and  I  intended 
to  confess  to  him." 

"And  I?" 

"Oh,  3rou — I  will  tell  you  everything,  for  I  have  many 
things  to  say  to  you.  As  a  beginning,  I  have  come  upon  the 
most  extraordinary  case  of  destitution,  the  strangest  union  of 
poverty  and  luxury,  and  figures  of  a  sublimity  which  outdoes 
the  inventions  of  our  most  admired  romancers." 

"Nature,  and  especially  moral  nature,  is  always  as  far  abovt 
art  as  God  is  above  His  creatures.  But  come,"  said  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie,  "and  tell  me  all  about  your  expedition  into 
the  unknown  lands  where  you  made  your  first  venture." 

Monsieur  Nicolas  and  Monsieur  Joseph — for  the  Abbe  de 
Veze  had  remained  for  a  few  minutes  at  Notre-Dame — left 
Madame  de  la  Chanterie  alone  with  Godefroid ;  and  he,  fresh 
from  the  emotions  he  had  gone  through  the  day  before,  re- 
lated every  detail  with  the  intensity,  the  gesticulation,  and  the 
eagerness  that  come  of  the  first  impression  produced  by  such 
a  scene  and  its  accessories  of  men  and  things.  He  had  a  suc- 
cess too ;  for  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  calm  and  gentle  as  she 
was,  and  accustomed  to  look  into  gulfs  of  suffering,  shed  tears. 

"You  did  right,"  said  she,  "to  send  the  harmonium." 

"I  wish  I  could  have  done  much  more,"  replied  Godefroid, 
"since  this  is  the  first  family  through  whom  I  have  known  the 
pleasures  of  charity;  I  want  to  secure  to  the  noble  old  man 
the  chief  part  of  the  profits  on  his  great  work.  I  do  not  know 
whether  you  have  enough  confidence  in  me  to  enable  me  to  un- 
dertake such  a  business.  From  the  information  I  have 
gained,  it  would  cost  about  nine  thousand  francs  to  bring  out 
an  edition  of  fifteen  hundred  copies,  and  their  lowest  selling 
value  would  be  twenty-four  thousand  francs.  As  we  must, 
in  the  first  instance,  pay  off  the  three  thousand  and  odd  francs 
that  have  been  advanced  on  the  manuscript,  we  should  have 
to  risk  twelve  thousand  francs. 


177 

"Oh,  madame !  if  you  conld  but  imagine  how  bitterly,  as  I 
made  my  way  hither  from  the  Quai  des  Augustins,  I  rued 
having  so  foolishly  wasted  my  little  fortune.  The  Genius  of 
Charity  appeared  to  me,  as  it  were,  and  filled  me  with  the 
ardor  of  a  neophyte;  I  desire  to  renounce  the  world,  to  live 
the  life  of  these  gentlemen,  and  to  be  worthy  of  you.  Many 
a  time  during  the  past  two  days  have  I  blessed  the  chance  that 
brought  me  to  your  house.  I  will  obey  you  in  every  particular 
till  you  judge  me  worthy  to  join  the  brotherhood." 

"Well,"  said  Madame  do  la  Chanterie  very  seriously,  after 
a  few  minutes  of  reflection,  "listen  to  me,  I  have  important 
things  to  say  to  you.  You  have  been  fascinated,  my  dear 
boy,  by  the  poetry  of  misfortune.  Yes,  misfortune  often  has 
a  poetry  of  its  own;  for,  to  me,  poetry  is  a  certain  exaltation 
of  feeling,  and  suffering  is  feeling.  We  live  so  much  through 
suffering !" 

"Yes,  madame,  I  was  captured  by  the  demon  of  curiosity. 
How  could  I  help  it !  I  have  not  yet  acquired  the  habit  of 
seeing  into  the  heart  of  these  unfortunate  lives,  and  I  cannot 
set  out  with  the  calm  resolution  of  your  three  pious  soldiers 
of  the  Lord.  But  I  may  tell  you,  it  was  not  till  I  had  quelled 
this  incitement  that  I  devoted  myself  to  your  work." 

"Listen,  my  very  dear  son,"  said  Madame  de  la  Chanterie, 
saying  the  words  with  a  saintly  sweetness  which  deeply 
touched  Godefroid,  "we  have  forbidden  ourselves  absolutely 
— and  this  is  no  exaggeration,  for  we  do  not  allow  ourselves 
even  to  think  of  what  is  forbidden — we  have  forbidden  our- 
selves ever  to  embark  in  a  speculation.  To  print  a  book  for 
sale,  and  looking  for  a  return,  is  business,  and  any  transac- 
tion of  that  kind  would  involve  us  in  the  difficulties  of  trade. 
To  be  sure,  it  looks  in  this  case  very  feasible,  and  even  neces- 
sary. Do  you  suppose  that  it  is  the  first  instance  of  the  kind 
that  has  come  before  us?  Twenty  limes,  a  hundred  times, 
we  have  seen  how  a  family,  a  concern,  could  be  saved.  But, 
then,  what  should  we  have  become  in  undertaking  matters 
of  this  kind?  We  should  be  simply  a  trading  firm.  To  be  a 
sleeping  partner  with  the  unfortunate  is  not  work;  it  is  only 


178  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

helping  misfortune  to  work.  In 'a  few  days  you  may  meet 
with  even  harder  cases  than  this;  will  you  do  the  same  thing? 
You  would  be  overwhelmed. 

"Remember,  for  one  thing,  that  the  house  of  Mongenod,  for 
a  year  past,  has  ceased  to  keep  our  accounts.  Quite  half  of 
your  time  will  be  taken  up  by  keeping  our  books.  There  are, 
at  this  time,  nearly  two  thousand  persons  in  our  debt  in  Paris ; 
and  of  those  who  may  repay  us,  at  any  rate,  it  is  necessary 
that  we  should  check  the  amounts  they  owe  us.  We  never  sue 
— we  wait.  We  calculate  that  half  of  the  money  given  out  is 
lost.  The  other  half  sometimes  returns  doubled. 

"Now,  suppose- this  lawyer  were  to  die,  the  twelve  thousand 
francs  would  be  badly  invested!  But  if  his  daughter  re- 
covers, if  his  grandson  does  well,  if  he  one  day  gets  another 
appointment — then,  if  he  has  any  sense  of  honor,  he  will  re- 
member the  debt,  and  return  the  funds  of  the  poor  with  in- 
terest. Do  you  know  that  more  than  one  family,  raised  from 
poverty  and  started  by  us  on  the  road  to  fortune  by  con- 
siderable loans  without  interest,  has  saved  for  the  poor  and  re- 
turned us  sums  of  double  and  sometimes  treble  the  amount  ? 

"This  is  our  only  form  of  speculation. 

"In  the  first  place,  as  to  this  case  which  interests  you,  and 
ought  to  interest  you,  consider  that  the  sale  of  the  lawyer's 
book  depends  on  its  merits ;  have  you  read  it  ?  Then,  even  if 
the  work  is  excellent,  how  many  excellent  books  have  re- 
mained two  or  three  years  without  achieving  the  success  they 
deserved.  How  many  a  wreath  is  laid  on  a  tomb !  And,  as 
T  know,  publishers  have  ways  of  driving  bargains  and  taking 
their  charges,  which  make  the  business  one  of  the  most  risky 
and  the  most  difficult  to  disentangle  of  all  in  Paris.  Monsieur 
Nicolas  can  tell  you  about  these  difficulties,  inherent  in  the 
nature  of  book-making.  So,  you  see,  we  are  prudent ;  we  have 
ample  experience  of  every  kind  of  misery,  as  of  every  branch 
of  trade,  for  we  have  long  been  studying  Paris.  The  Monge- 
nods  give  us  much  help;  they  are  a  light  to  our  path,  and 
through  them  we  know  that  the  Bank  of  France  is  always 
suspicious  of  the  book-trade;  though  it  is  a  noble  trade — but 
it  is  badly  conducted. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  179 

"As  to  the  four  thousand  francs  needed  to  save  this  noble 
family  from  the  horrors  of  indigence,  I  will  give  you  the 
money;  for  the  poor  boy  and  his  grandfather  must  be  fed 
and  decently  dressed. — There  are  sorrows,  miseries,  wounds, 
which  we  bind  up  at  once  without  inquiring  who  it  is  that 
we  are  helping;  religion,  honor,  character,  are  not  inquired 
into ;  but  as  soon  as  it  is  a  case  of  lending  the  money  belong- 
ing to  the  poor  to  assist  the  unfortunate  under  the  more  active 
form  of  industry  or  trade,  then  we  require  some  guarantee, 
and  are  as  rigid  as  the  money-lenders.  So,  for  all  beyond 
this  immediate  relief,  be  satisfied  with  finding  the  most  honest 
publisher  for  the  old  man's  book.  This  is  a  matter  for  Mon- 
sieur Nicolas.  He  is  acquainted  with  lawyers  and  professors 
and  authors  of  works  in  jurisprudence;  next  Saturday  he  will, 
no  doubt,  be  prepared  with  some  good  advice  for  you. 

"Be  easy ;  the  difficulty  will  be  got  over  if  possible.  At  the 
same  time,  it  might  be  well  if  Monsieur  Nicolas  could  read 
the  magistrate's  book ;  if  you  can  persuade  him  to  lend  it." 

Godefroid  was  amazed  at  this  woman's  sound  sense,  for 
he  had  believed  her  to  be  animated  solely  by  the  spirit  of 
charity.  He  knelt  on  one  knee  and  kissed  one  of  her  beauti- 
ful hands,  saying: 

"Then  you  are  Reason  too  \" 

"In  our  work  we  have  to  be  everything,"  said  she,  with  the 
peculiar  cheerfulness  of  a  true  saint. 

There  was  a  brief  silence,  broken  by  Godefroid,  who  'ex- 
claimed : 

"Two  thousand  debtors,  did  you  say,  madame?  Two  thou- 
sand accounts  !  It  is  tremendous !" 

"Two  thousand  accounts,  which  may  lead,  as  I  have  told 
you,  to  our  being  repaid  from  the  delicate  honor  of  the  bor- 
rowers. But  there  are  three  thousand  more — families  who  will 
never  make  us  any  return  but  in  thanks.  Thus,  as  I  have 
told  you,  we  feel  that  it  is  necessary  to  keep  books;  and  if! 
your  secrecy  is  above  suspicion,  you  will  be  our  financial 
oracle.  We  ought  to  keep  a  day-book,  a  ledger,  a  book  of  cur- 
rent expenses,  and  a  cash-book.  Of  course,  we  have  receipts, 
VOL.  16—43 


180  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

notes  of  hand,  but  it  takes  a  great  deal  of  time  to  look  for 
them Here  come  the  gentlemen." 

Godefroid,  at  first  serious  and  thoughtful,  took  little  part 
in  the  conversation;  he  was  bewildered  by  the  revelation  Ma- 
dame de  la  Chanterie  had  just  imparted  to  him  in  a  way  which 
showed  that  she  meant  it  to  be  the  reward  of  his  zeal. 

"Two  thousand  families  indebted  to  us!"  said  he  to  him- 
self. "Why,  if  they  all  cost  as  much  as  Monsieur  Bernard  will 
cost  ITS,  we  must  have  millions  sown  broadcast  in  Paris !" 

This  reflection  was  one  of  the  last  promptings  of  the 
worldly  spirit  which  was  fast  dying  out  in  Godefroid.  As 
he  thought  the  matter  over,  he  understood  that  the  united  for- 
tunes of  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  of  Messieurs  Alain,  Nico- 
las, Joseph,  and  Judge  Popinot,  with  the  gifts  collected  by  the 
Abbe  de  Yeze,  and  the  loans  from  the  Mongenods,  must  have 
produced  a  considerable  capital;  also,  that  in  twelve  or  fif- 
teen years  this  capital,  with  the  interest  paid  on  it  by  those 
who  had  shown  their  gratitude,  must  have  increased  like  a 
snowball,  since  the  charitable  holders  took  nothing  from  it. 
By  degrees  he  began  to  see  clearly  how  the  immense  affair  was 
managed,  and  his  wish  to  co-operate  was  increased. 

At  nine  o'clock  he  was  about  to  return  on  foot  to  the 
Boulevard  du  Mont-Parnasse ;  but  Madame  de  la  Chanterie, 
distrustful  of  so  lonely  a  neighborhood,  insisted  on  his  taking 
a  cab.  As  he  got  out  of  the  vehicle,  though  the  shutters  were 
so  closely  fastened  that  not  a  gleam  of  light  was  visible,  Gode- 
froid heard  the  sounds  of  the  instrument ;  and  Auguste,  who, 
no  doubt,  was  watching  for  Godefroid's  return,  half  opened 
the  door  on  the  landing,  and  said : 

"Mamma  would  very  much  like  to  see  you,  and  my  grand- 
father begs  you  will  take  a  cup  of  tea." 

Godefroid  went  in  and  found  the  invalid  transfigured  by 
the  pleasure  of  the  music;  her  face  beamed  and  her  eyes 
sparkled  like  diamonds. 

"I  ought  to  have  waited  for  you,  to  let  you  hear  the  first 
chords;  but  I  flew  at  this  little  organ  as  a  hungry  man  rushes 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  181 

on  a  banquet.  But  you  have  a  soul  to  understand  me,  and  I 
know  I  am  forgiven." 

Vanda  made  a  sign  to  her  son,  who  placed  himself  where 
he  could  press  the  pedal  that  supplied  the  interior  of  the  in- 
strument with  wind;  and,  with  her  eyes  raised  to  heaven  like 
Saint  Cecilia,  the  invalid,  whose  hands  had  for  a  time  re- 
covered their  strength  and  agility,  performed  some  variations 
on  the  prayer  in  Mose  which  her  sou  had  bought  for  her.  She 
had  composed  them  in  a  few  hours.  Godefroid  discerned  in 
her  a  talent  identical  with  that  of  Chopin.  It  was  a  soul 
manifesting  itself  by  divine  sounds  in  which  sweet  melan- 
choly predominated. 

Monsieur  Bernard  greeted  Godefroid  with  a  look  express- 
ing a  sentiment  long  since  in  abeyance.  If  the  tears  had  not 
been  for  ever  dried  up  in  the  old  man  scorched  by  so  many 
fierce  sorrows,  his  eyes  would  at  this  moment  have  been  wet. 

The  old  lawyer  was  fingering  his  snuff-box  and  gazing  at 
his  daughter  with  unutterable  rapture. 

"To-morrow,  madame,"  said  Godefroid,  when  the  music 
had  ceased,  "your  fate  will  be  sealed,  for  I  have  good  news 
for  you.  The  famous  Halpersohn  will  come  at  three  o'clock. 
— And  he  has  promised,"  he  added  in  Monsieur  Bernard's  ear, 
"to  tell  me  the  truth." 

The  old  man  rose,  and  taking  Godefroid  by  the  hand,  led 
him  into  a  corner  of  the  room  near  the  fireplace.  He  was 
trembling. 

"What  a  night  lies  before  me !  It  is  the  final  sentence !" 
said  he  in  a  whisper.  "My  daughter  will  be  cured  or  con- 
demned !" 

"Take  courage,"  said  Godefroid,  "and  after  tea  come  to  my 
rooms." 

"Cease  playing,  my  child,"  said  Monsieur  Bernard;  "you 
will  bring  on  an  attack.  Such  an  expenditure  of  strength 
will  be  followed  by  a  reaction." 

He  made  Auguste  remove  the  instrument,  and  brought  his 
daughter  her  cup  of  tea  with  the  coaxing  ways  of  a  nurse  who 
wants  to  anticipate  the  impatience  of  a  baby. 


182  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"And  what  is  this  doctor  like  ?"  asked  she,  already  diverted 
by  the  prospect  of  seeing  a  stranger. 

Vanda,  like  all  prisoners,  was  consumed  by  curiosity.  When 
the  physical  symptoms  of  her  complaint  gave  her  some  respite. 
they  seemed  to  develop  in  her  mind,  and  then  she  had  the 
strangest  whims  and  violent  caprices.  She  wanted  to  see  Eos- 
sini,  and  cried  because  her  father,  who  could,  she  imagined, 
do  everything,  assured  her  he  could  not  bring  him. 

Godefroid  gave  her  a  minute  description  of  the  Jewish 
physician  and  his  consulting-room,  for  she  knew  nothing  of 
the  steps  taken  by  her  father.  Monsieur  Bernard  had  en- 
joined silence  on  his  grandson  as  to  his  visits  to  Halpersohn ; 
he  had  so  much  feared  to  excite  hopes  which  might  not  be 
realized.  Vanda  seemed  to  hang  on  the  words  that  fell  from 
Godefroid's  lips;  she  was  spellbound  and  almost  crazy,  so 
ardent  did  her  desire  become  to  see  the  strange  Pole. 

"Poland  has  produced  many  singular  and  mysterious 
figures,"  said  the  old  lawyer.  "Just  now,  for  instance,  besides 
this  doctor  there  is  Hoene  Yronski  the  mathematician  and 
seer,  Mickievicz  the  poet,  the  inspired  Tovianski,  and  Chopin 
with  his  superhuman  talent.  Great  national  agitations  al- 
ways produce  these  crippled  giants." 

"Oh,  my  dear  papa,  what  a  man  you  are !  If  you  were  to 
write  down  all  that  we  hear  you  say  simply  to  entertain  me, 
you  would  make  a  fortune !  For,  would  you  believe  me,  mon- 
sieur, my  kind  old  father  invents  tales  for  me  when  I 
have  no  more  novels  to  read,  and  so  sends  me  to  sleep.  His 
voice  lulls  me,  and  he  often  soothes  my  pain  with  his  clever- 
ness. Who  will  ever  repay  him  ? — Auguste,  my  dear  boy,  you 
ought  to  kiss  your  grandfather's  footprints  for  me." 

The  youth  looked  at  his  mother  with  his  fine  eyes  full  of 
tears;  and  that  look,  overflowing  with  long  repressed  com- 
passion, was  a  poem  in  itself.  Godefroid  rose,  took  Auguste's 
hand,  and  pressed  it  warmly. 

"God  has  given  you  two  angels  for  your  companions,  ma- 
dame  !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Indeed  I  know  it.    And  I  blame  myself  for  so  often  pro- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OK  HISTORY  183 

yoking  them.  Come,  dear  Auguste,  and  kiss  your  mother. 
He  is  a  son,  monsieur,  of  whom  any  mother  would  be  proud. 
He  is  as  good  as  gold,  candid — a  soul  without  sin;  but  a 
rather  too  impassioned  creature,  like  his  mamma.  God  has 
nailed  me  to  my  bed  to  preserve  me  perhaps  from  the  follies 
women  commit — when  they  have  too  much  heart !"  she  ended 
with  a  smile. 

Godefroid  smiled  in  reply  and  bowed  good-night. 

"Good-night,  monsieur;  and  be  sure  to  thank  your  friend, 
for  he  has  made  a  poor  cripple  very  happy." 

"Monsieur,"  said  Godefroid  when  he  was  in  his  rooms,  alone 
with  Monsieur  Bernard,  who  had  followed  him,  "I  think  I 
may  promise  you  that  you  shall  not  be  robbed  by  those  three 
sharpers.  I  can  get  the  required  sum,  but  you  must  place  the 
papers  proving  the  loan  in  my  hands.  If  I  am  to  do  anything 
more,  you  should  allow  me  to  have  your  book — not  to  read 
myself,  for  I  am  not  learned  enough  to  judge  of  it,  but  to 
be  read  by  an  old  lawyer  I  know,  a  man  of  unimpeachable  in- 
tegrity, who  will  undertake,  according  to  the  character  of  the 
work,  to  find  a  respectable  firm  with  whom  you  may  deal  on 
equitable  terms. — On  this,  however,  I  do  not  insist. 

"Meanwhile,  here  are  five  hundred  francs,"  he  went  on, 
offering  a  note  to  the  astonished  lawyer,  "to  supply  your  more 
pressing  wants.  I  ask  for  no  receipt;  you  will  be  indebted 
on  no  evidence  but  that  of  your  conscience,  and  your  con- 
science may  lie  silent  till  you  have  to  some  extent  recovered 
yourself. — I  will  settle  with  Halpersohn." 

"But  who  are  you?"  asked  the  old  man,  sinking  on  to  a 
chair. 

"I/7  replied  Godefroid,  "am  nobody;  but  I  serve  certain 
powerful  persons  to  whom  your  necessities  are  now  made 
known,  and  who  take  an  interest  in  you. — Ask  no  more." 

"And  what  motive  can  these  persons  have ?" 

"Eeligion,  monsieur,"  replied  Godefroid. 

"Is  it  possible  ? — Eeligion  !" 

"Yes,  the  Catholic,  Apostolic,  Roman  religion." 

"Then  you  are  of  the  Order  of  Jesus?" 

"No,  monsieur,"  said  Godefroid.    "Be  perfectly  easy.    No 


184  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

one  has  any  design  on  you  beyond  that  of  helping  you  and 
restoring  your  family  to  comfort." 

"Can  philanthropy  then  wear  any  guise  but  that  of 
vanity  ?" 

"Nay,  monsieur,  do  not  insult  holy  Catholic  Charity,  the 
virtue  described  by  Saint  Paul !"  cried  Godefroid  eagerly. 

At  this  reply  Monsieur  Bernard  began  to  stride  up  and 
down  the  room. 

"I  accept !"  he  suddenly  said.  "And  I  have  but  one  way  of 
showing  my  gratitude — that  is,  by  intrusting  you  with  my 
work.  The  notes  and  quotations  are  unnecessary  to  a  lawyer; 
and  I  have,  as  I  told  you,  two  months'  work  before  me  yet  in 
copying  them  out. — To-morrow  then,"  and  he  shook  hands 
with  Godefroid. 

"Can  I  have  effected  a  conversion?"  thought  Godefroid, 
struck  by  the  new  expression  he  saw  on  the  old  man's  face  as 
he  had  last  spoken. 

Next  day,  at  three  o'clock,  a  hackney  coach  stopped  at  the 
door,  and  out  stepped  Halpersohn,  buried  in  a  vast  bearskin 
coat.  The  cold  had  increased  in  the  course  of  the  night,  and 
the  thermometer  stood  at  ten  degrees  below  freezing. 

The  Jewish  doctor  narrowly  though  furtively  examined  the 
room  in  which  his  visitor  of  yesterday  received  him,  and  Gode- 
froid detected  a  gleam  of  suspicion  sparkling  in  his  eye  like 
the  point  of  a  dagger.  This  swift  flash  of  doubt  gave  Gode- 
froid an  internal  chill;  he  began  to  think  that  this  man  would 
be  merciless  in  his  money  dealings;  and  it  is  so  natural  to 
think  of  genius  as  allied  to  goodness,  that  this  gave  him  an 
impulse  of  disgust. 

"Monsieur,"  said  he,  "I  perceive  that  the  plainness  of  my 
lodgings  arouses  your  uneasiness;  so  you  will  not  be  surprised 
at  my  manner  of  proceeding.  Here  are  your  two  hundred 
francs,  and  here,  you  see,  are  three  notes  for  a  thousand  francs 
each" — and  he  drew  out  the  notes  which  Madame  de  la  Chan- 
terie  had  given  him  to  redeem  Monsieur  Bernard's  manu- 
script. "If  you  have  any  further  doubts  as  to  my  solvency, 
I  may  refer  you,  as  a  guarantee  for  the  carrying  out  of  my 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  185 

pledge,  to  Messrs.  Mongenod  the  bankers,  Rue  de  la  Victoire." 

"I  know  them,"  said  Halpersohn,  slipping  the  ten  gold 
pieces  into  his  pocket. 

"And  he  will  go  there !"  thought  Godef roid. 

"And  where  does  the  sick  lady  live  ?"  asked  the  doctor,  ris- 
ing, as  a  man  who  knows  the  value  of  time. 

"Come  this  way,  monsieur,"  said  Godefroid,  going  first  to 
show  him  the  way. 

The  Jew  cast  a  shrewd  and  scrutinizing  glance  on  the 
rooms  he  went  through,  for  he  had  the  eye  of  a  spy;  and  he 
was  able  to  see  the  misery  of  poverty  through  the  door  into 
Monsieur  Bernard's  bedroom,  for,  unluckily,  Monsieur  Ber- 
nard had  just  been  putting  on  the  dress  in  which  he  always 
showed  himself  to  his  daughter,  and  in  his  haste  to  admit  his 
visitors  he  left  the  door  of  his  kennel  ajar. 

He  bowed  with  dignity  to  Halpersohn,  and  softly  opened 
his  daughter's  bedroom  door. 

"Vanda,  my  dear,  here  is  the  doctor,"  he  said. 

He  stood  aside  to  let  Halpersohn  pass,  still  wrapped  in  his 
furs. 

The  Jew  was  surprised  at  the  splendor  of  this  room,  which 
in  this  part  of  the  town  seemed  anomalous;  but  his  aston- 
ishment was  of  no  long  duration,  for  he  had  often  seen  in  the 
houses  of  German  and  Polish  Jews  a  similar  discrepancy  be- 
tween the  display  of  extreme  penury  and  concealed  wealth. 
While  walking  from  the  door  to  the  bed  he  never  took  his  eyes 
off  the  sufferer ;  and  when  he  stood  by  her  side,  he  said  to  her 
in  Polish : 

"Are  you  a  Pole  ?" 

"1  am  not;  my  mother  was/' 

"Whom  did  your  grandfather,  General  Tarlovski,  marry?" 

"A  Pole." 

"Of  what  province  ?" 

"A  Sobolevska  of  Pinsk." 

"Good. — And  this  gentleman  is  your  father?" 

"Yes,  monsieur." 


186  THE  SEAfiiY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Monsieur,"  said  Halpersohn,  "is  your  wife " 

"She  is  dead/'  replied  Monsieur  Bernard. 

"Was  she  excessively  fair  ?"  said  Halpersohn,  with  some  im- 
patience at  the  interruption. 

"Here  is  a  portrait  of  her,"  replied  Monsieur  Bernard,  tak- 
ing down  a  handsome  frame  containing  several  good  minia- 
tures. 

Halpersohn  was  feeling  the  invalid's  head  and  hair,  while  he 
looked  at  the  portrait  of  Vanda  Tarlovska  nee  Comtesse  Sobo- 
levska. 

"Tell  me  the  symptoms  of  the  patient's  illness."  And  he 
seated  himself  in  the  armchair,  gazing  steadily  at  Vanda  dur- 
ing twenty  minutes,  while  the  father  and  daughter  spoke  by 
turns. 

"And  how  old  is  the  lady  ?" 

"Eight-and-thirty." 

"Very  good !"  he  said  as  he  rose.  "Well,  I  undertake  to 
cure  her.  I  cannot  promise  to  give  her  the  use  of  her  legs, 
but  she  can  be  cured.  Only,  she  must  be  placed  in  a  private 
hospital  in  my  part  of  the  town." 

"But,  monsieur,  my  daughter  cannot  be  moved — 

"I  will  answer  for  her  life,"  said  Halpersohn  sententiously. 
"But  I  answer  for  her  only  on  those  conditions. — Do  you 
know  she  will  exchange  her  present  symptoms  for  another 
horrible  form  of  disease,  which  will  last  for  a  year  perhaps, 
or  six  months  at  the  very  least  ? — You  can  come  to  see  her,  as 
you  are  her  father." 

"And  it  is  certain?"  asked  Monsieur  Bernard. 

"Certain,"  repeated  the  Jew.  "Your  daughter  has  a  vicious 
humor,  a  national  disorder,  in  her  blood,  and  it  must  be 
brought  out.  When  you  bring  her,  carry  her  to  the  Kue 
Basse-Saint-Pierre  at  Chaillot — Dr.  Halpersohn's  private  hos- 
pital." 

"But  how?" 

"On  a  stretcher,  as  the  sick  people  are  always  carried  to 
a  hospital." 

"But  it  will  kill  her  to  be  moved." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  187 

"No." 

And  Halpersohn,  as  he  spoke  this  curt  No,  was  at  the 
door,  where  Godefroid  met  him  on  the  landing. 

The  Jew,  who  was  suffocating  with  heat,  said  in  his  ear: 

"The  charge  will  be  fifteen  francs  a  day,  besides  the  thou- 
sand crowns;  three  months  paid  in  advance." 

"Very  good,  monsieur. — And,"  asked  Godefroid,  standing 
on  the  step  of  the  cab  into  which  the  doctor  had  hurried,  "you 
answer  for  the  cure?" 

"Positively,"  said  the  Pole.  "Are  vou  in  love  with  the 
lady?" 

"No,"  said  Godefroid. 

"You  must  not  repeat  what  I  am  about  to  tell  you,  for  I 
am  saying  it  only  to  prove  to  you  that  I  am  sure  of  the  cure ; 
but  if  you  say  anything  about  it,  you  will  be  the  death  of  the 
woman " 

Godefroid  replied  only  by  a  gesture. 

"For  seventeen  years  she  has  been  suffering  from  the  disease 
known  as  Plica  Polonica,  which  can  produce  all  these  tor- 
ments; I  have  seen  the  most  dreadful  cases.  Now  I  am  the 
only  man  living  who  knows  how  to  bring  out  the  Plica  in  such 
a  form  as  to  be  curable,  for  not  every  one  gets  over  it.  You 
see,  monsieur,  that  I  am  really  very  liberal.  If  this  were  some 
great  lady — a  Baronne  de  Nucingen  or  any  other  wife  or 
daughter  of  some  modern  Croesus — I  should  get  a  hundred — 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  for  this  cure — whatever  I  might 
like  to  ask ! — However,  that  is  a  minor  misfortune." 

"And  moving  her?" 

"Oh,  she  will  seem  to  be  dying,  but  she  will  not  die  of  it ! 
She  may  live  a  hundred  years  when  once  she  is  cured. — Now, 
Jacques,  quick — Kue  Monsieur,  and  make  haste !"  said  he  to 
the  driver. 

He  left  Godefroid  standing  in  the  street,  where  he  gazed  in 
bewilderment  after  the  retreating  cab. 

"Who  on  earth  is  that  queer-looking  man  dressed  in  bear- 
skin ?"  asked  Madame  Vauthier,  whom  nothing  could  escape. 
"Is  it  true,  as  the  hackney  coachman  said,  that  he  is  the  most 
famous  doctor  in  Paris?" 


188  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

"And  what  can  that  matter  to  you,  Mother  Vauthier?" 

"Oh,  not  at  all,"  said  she  with  a  sour  face. 

"You  made  a  great  mistake  in  not  siding  with  me,"  said 
Godefroid,  as  he  slowly  went  into  the  house.  "You  would 
have  done  better  than  by  sticking  to  Monsieur  Barbet  and 
Monsieur  Metivier;  you  will  get  nothing  out  of  them." 

"And  am  I  on  their  side  ?"  retorted  she  with  a  shrug.  "Mon- 
sieur Barbet  is  my  landlord,  that  is  all." 

It  took  two  days  to  persuade  Monsieur  Bernard  to  part  from 
his  daughter  and  carry  her  to  Chaillot.  Godefroid  and  the 
old  lawyer  walked  all  the  way,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
stretcher,  screened  in  with  striped  blue-and-white  tickings,  on 
which  the  precious  patient  lay,  almost  tied  down  to  the  mat- 
tress, so  greatly  did  her  father  fear  the  convulsions  of  a  ner- 
vous attack.  However,  having  set  out  at  three  o'clock,  the  pro- 
cession reached  the  private  hospital  at  five,  when  it  was  dusk. 
Godefroid  paid  the  four  hundred  and  fifty  francs  demanded 
for  the  three  months'  board,  and  took  a  receipt  for  it;  then, 
when  he  went  down  to  pay  the  two  porters,  Monsieur  Bernard 
joined  him  and  took  from  under  the  mattress  a  very  volu- 
minous sealed  packet,  which  he  handed  to  Godefroid. 

"One  of  these  men  will  fetch  you  a  cab,"  said  he,  "for  you 
cannot  x;arry  those  four  volumes  very  far.  This  is  my  book ; 
place  it  in  my  censor's  hands ;  I  will  leave  it  with  him  for  a 
week.  I  shall  remain  at  least  a  week  in  this  neighborhood, 
for  I  cannot  abandon  my  daughter  to  her  fate.  I  know  my 
grandson;  he  can  mind  the  house,  especially  with  you  to  help 
him;  and  I  commend  him  to  JOMT  care.  If  I  were  myself 
what  once  I  was,  I  would  ask  you  my  critic's  name;  for  if 
he  was  once  a  magistrate,  there  were  few  whom  I  did  not 
know " 

"It  is  no  mystery,"  said  Godefroid,  interrupting  Monsieur 
Bernard.  "Since  you  show  such  entire  confidence  in  me,  I 
may  tell  you  that  the  reader  is  the  President  Lecamus  de 
Tresnes."" 

"Oh,  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  Paris.  Take  it — by  all 
means.  He  is  one  of  the  noblest  men  of  our  time.  He  and 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  189 

the  late  Judge  Popinot,  the  judge  of  the  Lower  Court,  were 
lawyers  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  the  old  Parlements.  All 
my  fears,  if  I  had  any,  must  vanish. — And  where  does  he 
live?  I  should  like  to  go  and  thank  him  when  he  has  taken 
so  much  trouble." 

"You  will  find  him  in  the  Rue  Chanoinesse,  under  the  name 
of  Monsieur  Nicolas.  I  am  just  going  there. — But  your  agree- 
ment with  those  rascals?" 

"Auguste  will  give  it  you,"  said  the  old  man,  going  back 
into  the  hospital. 

A  cab  was  found  on  the  Quai  de  Billy  and  brought  by  one 
of  the  men;  Godefroid  got  in  and  stimulated  the  driver  by 
the  promise  of  drink  money  if  he  drove  quickly  to  the  Rue 
Chanoinesse,  where  he  intended  to  dine. 

Half  an  hour  after  Vanda's  removal,  three  men,  dressed 
in  black,  were  let  in  by  Madame  Vauthier  at  the  dqor  in  the 
Rue  N"otre-Dame  des  Champs,  where  they  had  been  waiting, 
no  doubt,  till  the  coast  should  be  clear.  They  went  upstairs 
under  the  guidance  of  the  Judas  in  petticoats,  and  gently 
knocked  at  Monsieur  Bernard's  door.  As  it  happened  to  be  a 
Thursday,  the  young  collegian  was  at  home.  He  opened  the 
door,  and  three  men  slipped  like  shadows  into  the  outer  room. 

"What  do  you  want,  gentlemen?"  asked  the  youth. 

"This  is  Monsieur  Bernard's — that  is  to  say,  Monsieur  le 
Baron ?" 

"But  what  do  you  want  here?" 

"Oh,  you  know  that  pretty  well,  young  man,  for  your  grand- 
father has  just  gone  off  with  a  closed  litter,  I  am  told. — Well, 
that  does  not  surprise  us ;  he  shows  his  wisdom.  I  am  a  bailiff, 
and  I  have  come  to  seize  everything  here.  On  Monday  last 
you  were  summoned  to  pay  three  thousand  francs  and  the 
expenses  to  Monsieur  Metivier,  under  penalty  of  imprison- 
ment; and  as  a  man  who  has  grown  onions  knows  the  smell 
of  chives,  the  debtor  has  taken  the  key  of  the  fields  rather  than 
wait  for  that  of  the  lock-up.  However,  if  we  cannot  secure 
him,  we  can  get  a  wing  or  a  leg  of  his  gorgeous  furniture — 


190  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

for  we  know  all  about  it,  young  man,  and  we  are  going  to  make 
an  official  report." 

"Here  are  some  stamped  papers  that  your  grandpapa  would 
never  take,"  said  the  widow  Vauthier,  shoving  three  writs 
into  Auguste's  hand. 

"Stay  here,  ma'am;  we  will  put  you  in  possession.  The 
law  gives  you  forty  sous  a  day ;  it  is  not  to  be  sneezed  at." 

"Ah,  ha !  Then  I  shall  see  what  there  is  in  the  grand  bed- 
room !"  cried  Madame  Vauthier. 

"You  shall  not  go  into  my  mother's  room !"  cried  the  lad 
in  a  fury,  as  he  flung  himself  between  the  door  and  the  three 
men  in  black. 

On  a  sign  from  their  leader,  the  two  men  and  a  lawyer's 
clerk  who  came  in  seized  Auguste. 

"No  resistance,  young  man;  you  arc  not  master  here.  We 
shall  draw  up  a  charge,  and  you  will  spend  the  night  in  the 
lock-up." . 

At  this  dreadful  threat,  Auguste  melted  into  tears. 

"Oh,  what  a  mercy,"  cried  he,  "that  mamma  is  gone !  This 
would  have  killed  her !" 

The  men  and  the  bailiff  now  held  a  sort  of  council  with 
the  widow  Vauthier.  Auguste  understood,  though  they  talked 
in  a  low  voice,  that  what  they  chiefly  wanted  was  to  seize  his 
grandfather's  manuscripts,  so  he  opened  the  bedroom  door. 

"Walk  in  then,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "but  spoil  nothing. 
You  will  be  paid  to-morrow  morning."  Then,  still  in  tears,  he 
went  into  his  own  squalid  room,  snatched  up  all  his  grand- 
father's notes,  and  stuffed  them  into  the  stove,  where  he  knew 
that  there  was  not  a  spark  of  fire. 

The  thing  was  done  so  promptly,  that  the  bailiff,  though 
he  was  keen  and  cunning,  and  worthy  of  his  employers  Barbet 
and  Metivier,  found  the  boy  in  tears  on  a  chair  when  he  rushed 
into  the  room,  having  concluded  that  the  manuscripts  would 
not  be  in  the  ante-room.  Though  books  and  manuscripts  may 
not  legally  be  seized  for  debt,  the  lien  signed  by  the  old  lawyer 
in  this  case  justified  the  proceeding.  Still,  it  would  have  been 
easy  to  find  means  of  delaying  the  distraint,  as  Monsieur 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  191 

Bernard  would  certainly  have  known.     Hence  the  necessity 
for  acting-  with  cunning. 

The  widow  Vauthier  had  been  an  invaluable  ally  to  her 
landlord  by  failing  to  serve  his  notices  on  her  lodger ;  her  plan 
was  to  throw  them  on  him  when  entering  at  the  heels  of  the 
officers  of  justice;  or,  if  necessary,  to  declare  to  Monsieur 
Bernard  that  she  had  supposed  them  to  be  intended  for  the 
two  writers  who  had  been  absent  for  two  days. 

The  inventory  of  the  goods  took  above  an  hour  to  make 
out/ for  the  bailiff  would  omit  nothing,  and  regarded  the  value 
as  sufficient  to  pay  off  the  debts. 

As  soon  as  the  officers  were  gone,  the  poor  youth  took  the 
writs  and  hurried  away  to  find  his  grandfather  at  Halper- 
sohn's  hospital;  for,  as  the  bailiff  assured  him  that  Madame 
Vauthier  was  responsible  for  everything  under  heavy  penal- 
ties, he  could  leave  the  place  without  fear. 

The  idea  of  his  grandfather's  being  taken  to  prison  for 
debt  drove  the  poor  boy  absolutely  mad — mad  in  the  way  in 
which  the  young  are  mad ;  that  is  to  say,  a  victim  to  the  dan- 
gerous and  fatal  excitement  in  which  every  energy  of  youth  is 
in  a  ferment  and  may  lead  to  the  worst  as  to  the  most  heroic 
actions. 

When  poor  Auguste  reached  the  Rue  Basse-Saint-Pierre, 
the  doorkeeper  told  him  that  he  did  not  know  what  had  be- 
come of  the  father  of  the  patient  brought  in  at  five  o'clock, 
but  that  by  Monsieur  Halpersohn's  orders  no  one — not  even 
her  father — was  to  be  allowed  to  see  the  lady  for  a  week,  or  it 
might  endanger  her  life. 

This  reply  put  a  climax  to  Auguste's  desperation.  He  went 
back  again  to  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Parnasse,  revolving  the 
most  extravagant  schemes  as  he  went.  He  got  home  by  about 
half-past  eight,  almost  starving,  so  exhausted  by  hunger  and 
grief,  that  he  accepted  when  Madame  Vauthier  invited  him 
to  share  her  supper,  consisting  of  a  stew  of  mutton  and  pota- 
toes. The  poor  boy  dropped  half  dead  into  a  chair  in  the 
dreadful  woman's  room. 

Encouraged  by  the  old  woman's  coaxing  and  insinuating 


192  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

words,  he  answered  a  few  cunningly  arranged  questions  about 
Godefroid,  and  gave  her  to  understand  that  it  was  he  who 
would  pay  off  his  grandfather's  debts  on  the  morrow,  and 
that  to  him  they  owed  the  improvement  that  had  taken  place 
in  their  prospects  during  the  past  week.  The  widow  listened 
to  all  this  with  an  affectation  of  doubt,  plying  Auguste  with  a 
few  glasses  of  wine. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  wheels  of  a  cab  were  heard  to  stop  in 
front  of  the  house,  and  the  woman  exclaimed : 

"Oh,  there  is  Monsieur  Godefroid !" 

Auguste  took  the  key  of  his  rooms  and  went  upstairs  to 
see  the  kind  friend  of  the  family;  but  he  found  Godefroid 
so  entirely  unlike  himself,  that  he  hesitated  to  speak  till  the 
thought  of  his  grandfather's  danger  spurred  the  generous 
youth. 

This  is  what  had  happened  in  the  Hue  Chanoinesse,  and 
had  caused  Godefroid's  stern  expression  of  countenance. 

The  neophyte,  arriving  in  good  time,  had  found  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie  and  her  adherents  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
he  had  taken  Monsieur  Nicolas  aside  to  deliver  to  him  the 
Spirit  of  the  Modern  Laws.  Monsieur  Nicolas  at  once  carried 
the  sealed  parcel  to  his  room,  and  came  down  to  dinner.  Then, 
after  chatting  during  the  first  part  of  the  evening,  he  went  up 
again,  intending  to  begin  reading  the  work. 

Godefroid  was  greatly  surprised  when,  a  few  minutes  after, 
Manon  came  from  the  old  judge  to  beg  him  to  go  up  to  speak 
with  him.  Following  Manon,  he  was  led  to  Monsieur  Nicolas' 
room ;  but  he  could  pay  no  attention  to  its  details,  so  greatly 
was  he  startled  by  the  evident  distress  of  a  man  usually  so 
placid  and  firm. 

"Did  you  know,"  said  Monsieur  Nicolas,  quite  the  Judge 
again,  "the  name  of  the  author  of  this  work?" 

"Monsieur  Bernard,"  said  Godefroid.  "I  know  him  only 
by  that  name.  I  did  not  open  the  parcel— 

"True,"  said  Monsieur  Nicolas.  "I  broke  the  seals  myself. 
— And  you  made  no  inquiry  as  to  his  previous  history?" 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  193 

"No.  I  know  that  he  married  for  love  the  daughter  of 
General  Tarlovski,  that  his  daughter  is  named  Vanda  after 
her  mother,  and  his  grandson  Auguste.  And  the  portrait  I 
saw  of  Monsieur  Bernard  is,  I  believe,  in  the  dress  of  a  Pre- 
siding Judge — a  red  gown/' 

"Look  here  I"  said  Monsieur  Nicolas,  and  held  out  the  title 
of  the  work  in  Auguste's  handwriting,  and  in  the  following 
form: 

THE  SPIEIT 

OF  THE  MODEEN   LAWS 

BY 
M.   BERNARD-JEAN-BAPTISTE   MACLODD 

BARON  BOURLAC 

Formerly  Attorney-General  to  the  High  Court  of  Justice  at  Rouen 
Commander  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 

"Oh!  The  man  who  condemned  Madame,  her  daughter, 
and  the  Chevalier  du  Vissard!"  said  Godefroid  in  a  choked 
voice. 

His  knees  gave  way,  and  the  neophyte  dropped  on  to  a 
chair. 

"What  a  beginning!"  he  murmured.  • 

"This,  my  dear  Godefroid,  is  a  business  that  comes  home 
to  us  all.  You  have  done  your  part;  we  must  deal  with  it 
now !  I  beg  you  to  do  nothing  further  of  any  kind ;  go  and 
fetch  whatever  you  left  in  your  rooms ;  and  not  a  word  ! — In 
fact,  absolute  silence.  Tell  Baron  Bourlac  to  apply  to  me. 
Between  this  and  then,  we  shall  have  decided  how  it  will  be 
best  to  act  in  such  circumstances." 

Godefroid  went  downstairs,  called  a  hackney  cab,  and  hur- 
ried back  to  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Parnasse,  filled  with  hor- 
ror as  he  thought  of  the  examination  and  trials  at  Caen,  of 
the  hideous  drama  that  ended  on  the  scaffold,  and  of  Madame 
de  la  Chanterie's  sojourn  in  Bicetre.  He  understood  the  neg- 
13 


194  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

lect  into  which  this  lawyer,  almost  a  second  Fouquier-Tin- 
ville,  had  fallen  in  his  old  age,  and  the  reasons  why  he  so  care- 
fully concealed  his  name. 

"I  hope  Monsieur  Nicolas  will  take  some  terrible  revenge 
for  poor  Madame  de  la  Chanterie!" 

He  had  just  thought  out  this  not  very  Christian  wish,  when 
he  saw  Auguste. 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"My  dear  sir,  a  misfortune  has  befallen  us  which  is  turning 
my  brain !  Some  scoundrels  have  been  here  to  take  possession 
of  everything  belonging  to  my  mother,  and  they  are  hunting 
for  my  grandfather  to  put  him  into  prison.  But  it  is  not 
by  reason  of  these  disasters  that  I  turn  to  you  for  help,"  said 
the  lad  with  Roman  pride ;  "it  is  to  beg  you  to  do  me  such  a 
service  as  you  would  do  to  a  condemned  criminal " 

"Speak,"  said  Godefroid. 

"They  wanted  to  get  hold  of  my  grandfather's  manuscripts ; 
and  as  I  believe  he  placed  the  work  in  your  hands,  I  want  to 
beg  you  to  take  the  notes,  for  the  woman  will  not  allow  me  to 
remove  a  thing. — Put  them  with  the  volumes,  and  then 

"Very  well,"  said  Godefroid,  "make  haste  and  fetch  them." 

While  the  lad  went  off,  to  return  immediately,  Godefroid 
reflected  that  the  poor  boy  was  guilty  of  no  crime,  that  he 
must  not  break  his  heart  by  telling  him  about  his  grandfather, 
or  the  desertion  which  was  the  punishment  in  his  sad  old  age 
of  the  passions  of  his  political  career ;  he  took  the  packet  not 
unkindly. 

"What  is  your  mother's  name?"  he  asked. 

"My  mother,  monsieur,  is  the  Baronne  de  Mergi.  My 
father  was  the  son  of  the  Presiding  Judge  of  the  Supreme 
Court  at  Rouen." 

"Ah !"  said  Godefroid,  "so  your  grandfather  married  his 
daughter  to  the  son  of  the  famous  Judge  Mergi  ?" 

"Yes,  monsieur." 

"Leave  me,  my  little  friend,"  said  Godefroid. 

He  went  out  on  to  the  landing  with  the  young  Baron  de 
Mergi,  and  called  Madame  Vauthier. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  195 

"Mother  Vauthier,"  said  he,  "you  can  relet  my  rooms;  I 
am  never  coming  back  again." 

And  he  went  down  to  the  cab. 

"Have  you  intrusted  anything  to  that  gentleman?"  asked 
the  widow  of  Auguste. 

"Yes,"  said  the  lad. 

"You're  a  pretty  fool.  He  is  one  of  your  enemies'  agents. 
He  has  been  at  the  bottom  of  it  all,  you  may  be  sure.  It  is 
proof  enough  that  the  trick  has  turned  out  all  right  that  he 
never  means  to  come  back.  He  told  me  I  could  let  his  rooms." 

Auguste  flew  out,  and  down  the  boulevard,  running  after 
the  cab,  and  at  last  succeeded  in  stopping  it  by  his  shouts  and 
cries. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"My  grandfather's  manuscripts?" 

"Tell  him  to  apply  for  them  to  Monsieur  Nicolas." 

The  lad  took  this  reply  as  the  cruel  jest  of  a  thief  who  has 
no  shame  left ;  he  sat  down  in  the  snow  as  he  saw  the  cab  set 
off  again  at  a  brisk  trot. 

He  rose  in  a  fever  of  fierce  energy  and  went  home  to  bed, 
worn  out  with  rushing  about  Paris,  and  quite  heart-broken. 

Next  morning,  Auguste  de  Mergi  awoke  to  find  himself 
alone  in  the  rooms  where  yesterday  his  mother  and  his  grand- 
father had  been  with  him,  and  he  went  through  all  the  mis- 
eries of  his  position,  of  which  he  fully  understood  the  extent. 
The  utter  desertion  of  the  place,  hitherto  so  amply  filled, 
where  every  minute  had  brought  with  it  a  duty  and  an  occu- 
pation, was  so  painful  to  him,  that  he  went  down  to  ask  the 
widow  Vauthier  whether  his  grandfather  had  come  in  during 
the  night  or  early  morning ;  for  he  himself  had  slept  very 
late,  and  he  supposed  that  if  the  Baron  Bourlac  had  come 
home  the  woman  would  have  warned  him  against  his  pur- 
suers. She  replied,  with  a  sneer,  that  he  must  know  full  well 
where  to  look  for  his  grandfather;  for  if  he  had  not  come  in, 
it  was  evident  that  he  had  taken  up  his  abode  in  the  "Chateau 
do  Clichy."  This  impudent  irony  from  the  woman  who,  the 
day  before,  had  cajoled  him  so  effectually,  again  drove  the 
VOL.  16—44 


196  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

poor  boy  to  frenzy,  and  he  flew  to  the  private  hospital  in  the 
Eue  Basse-Saint-Pierre,  in  despair,  as  he  thought  of  his 
grandfather  in  prison. 

Baron  Bourlac  had  hung  about  all  night  in  front  of  the 
hospital  which  he  was  forbidden  to  enter,  or  close  to  the  house 
of  Doctor  Halpersohn,  whom  he  naturally  wished  to  call  to 
account  for  this  conduct.  The  doctor  did  not  get  home  till 
two  in  the  morning.  The  old  man,  who,  at  half-past  one,  had 
been  at  the  doctor's  door,  had  just  gone  off  to  walk  in  the 
Champs-filysees,  and  when  he  returned  at  half-past  two  the 
gatekeeper  told  him  that  Monsieur  Halpersohn  was  now  in 
bed  and  asleep,  and  was  on  no  account  to  be  disturbed. 

Here,  alone,  at  half-past  two  in  the  morning,  the  unhappy 
father,  in  utter  despair,  paced  the  quay,  and  under  the  trees, 
loaded  with  frost,  of  the  sidewalks  of  the  Cours-la-Beine, 
waiting  for  the  day. 

At  nine  o'clock  he  presented  himself  at  the  doctor's,  and 
asked  him  why  he  thus  kept  his  daughter  under  lock  and  key. 

"Monsieur,"  said  Halpersohn,  "I  yesterday  made  myself 
answerable  for  your  daughter's  recovery ;  and  at  this  moment 
I  am  responsible  for  her  life,  and  you  must  understand  that 
in  such  a  case  I  must  have  sovereign  authority.  I  may  tell 
you  that  your  daughter  yesterday  took  a  remedy  which  will 
give  her  the  Plica,  that  till  the  disease  is  brought  out  the  lady 
must  remain  invisible.  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  lose  my 
patient  or  you  to  lose  your  daughter  by  exposing  her  to  any 
excitement,  any  error  of  treatment;  if  you  really  insist  on 
seeing  her,  I  shall  demand  a  consultation  of  three  medical 
men  to  protect  myself  against  any  responsibility,  as  the  pa- 
tient might  die." 

The  old  man,  exhausted  with  fatigue,  had  dropped  on  to  a 
chair;  he  quickly  rose,  however,  saying: 

"Forgive  me,  monsieur;  I  have  spent  the  night  in  mortal 
anguish,  for  you  cannot  imagine  how  much  I  love  my  daugh- 
ter, whom  I  have  nursed  for  fifteen  years  between  life  and 
death,  and  this  week  of  waiting  is  torture  to  me !" 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  197 

The  Baron  left  Halpersohn's  study, tottering  like  a  drunken 
man,  the  doctor  giving  him  his  arm  to  the  top  of  the  stairs. 

About  an  hour  later,  he  saw  Auguste  de  Mergi  walk  into 
his  room.  On  questioning  the  lodge-keeper  of  the  private 
hospital,  the  poor  lad  had  just  heard  that  the  father  of  the 
lady  admitted  the  day  before  had  called  again  in  the  evening, 
had  asked  for  her,  and  had  spoken  of  going  early  in  the  day 
to  Doctor  Halpersohn,  who,  no  doubt,  would  know  something 
about  him.  At  the  moment  when  Auguste  de  Mergi  appeared 
in  the  doctor's  room,  Halpersohn  was  breakfasting  off  a  cup 
of  chocolate  and  a  glass  of  water,  all  on  a  small  round  table ; 
he  did  not  disturb  himself  for  the  youth,  but  went  on  soaking 
his  strip  of  bread  in  the  chocolate;  for  he  ate  nothing  but  a 
roll,  cut  into  four  with  an  accuracy  that  argued  some  skill  as 
an  operator.  Halpersohn  had,  in  fact,  practised  surgery  in 
the  course  of  his  travels. 

"Well,  young  man,"  said  he  as  Vanda's  son  came  in,  "you 
too  have  come  to  require  me  to  account  for  your  mother?" 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  said  Auguste. 

The  young  fellow  had  come  forward  as  far  as  the  large 
table,  and  his  eye  was  immediately  caught  by  several  bank- 
notes lying  among  the  little  piles  of  gold  pieces.  In  the  posi- 
tion in  which  the  unhappy  boy  found  himself,  the  temptation 
was  stronger  than  his  principles,  well  grounded  as  they  were. 
He  saw  before  him  the  means  of  rescuing  his  grandfather,  and 
saving  the  fruits  of  twenty  years'  labor  imperiled  by  avari- 
cious speculators.  He  fell.  The  fascination  was  as  swift  as 
thought,  and  justified  itself  by  an  idea  of  self-immolation  that 
smiled  on  the  boy.  He  said  to  himself: 

"I  shall  be  done  for,  but  I  shall  save  my  mother  and  my 
grandfather." 

Under  this  stress  of  antagonism  between  his  reason  and  the 
impulse  to  crime,  he  acquired,  as  madmen  do,  a  strange  and 
fleeting  dexterity,  and  instead  of  asking  after  his  grandfather, 
he  listened  and  agreed  to  all  the  doctor  was  saying. 

Halpersohn,  like  all  acute  observers,  had  understood  the 
whole  past  history  of  the  father,  the  daughter,  and  her  son. 


198  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

He  had  scented  or  guessed  the  facts  which  Madame  de  Mergi's 
conversation  had  confirmed,  and  he  felt  in  consequence  a  sort 
of  benevolence  towards  his  new  clients; — as  to  respect  or  ad- 
miration, he  was  incapable  of  them. 

"Well,  my  dear  boy,"  said  he  familiarly,  "I  am  keeping 
your  mother  to  restore  her  to  you  young,  handsome,  and  in 
good  health.  Hers  is  one  of  those  rare  diseases  which  doc- 
tors find  very  interesting;  and  besides,  she  is,  through  her 
mother,  a  fellow-countrywoman  of  mine.  You  and  your 
grandfather  must  be  brave  enough  to  live  without  seeing  her 
for  a  fortnight,  and  madame ?" 

"La  Baronne  de  Mergi." 

"If  she  is  a  Baroness,  you  are  Baron ?"  asked  Halper- 

sohn. 

At  this  moment  the  theft  was  effected.  While  the  doctor 
was  looking  at  his  bread,  heavy  with  chocolate,  Auguste 
snatched  up  four  folded  notes,  and  had  slipped  them  into  his 
trousers  pocket,  affecting  to  keep  his  hand  there  out  of  sheer 
embarrassment. 

"Yes,  monsieur,  I  am  a  Baron.  So  too  is  my  grandfather; 
he  was  public  prosecutor  at  the  time  of  the  Kestoration." 

"You  blush,  young  man.  You  need  not  blush  because  you 
are  a  Baron  and  poor — it  is  a  very  common  case." 

"And  who  told  you,  monsieur,  that  we  are  poor?" 

"Well,  your  grandfather  told  me  that  he  had  spent  the  night 
in  the  Champs-filysees ;  and  though  I  know  no  palace  where 
there  is  so  fine  a  vault  overhead  as  that  which  was  glittering 
at  two  o'clock  this  morning,  it  was  cold,  I  can  tell  you,  in  the 
palace  where  your  grandfather  was  taking  his  airing.  A  man 
does  not  go  "to  the  Hotel  de  la  belle-Etoile  by  preference." 

"Has  my  grandfather  been  here?"  cried  Auguste,  seizing 
the  opportunity  to  beat  a  retreat.  "Thank*  you,  monsieur.  I 
will  come  again,  with  your  permission,  for  news  of  my 
mother." 

As  soon  as  he  got  out,  the  young  Baron  went  off  to  the  bail- 
iff's office,  taking  a  hackney  cab  to  get  there  the  sooner.  The 
man  gave  up  the  agreement,  and  the  bill  of  costs  duly  re- 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  199 

eeipted,  and  then  desired  the  young  man  to  take  one  of  the 
clerks  with  him  to  release  the  person  in  charge  from  her  func- 
tions. 

"And  as  Messrs.  Barbet  and  Metivier  live  in  your  part  of 
the  town,"  added  he,  "my  boy  will  take  them  the  money  and 
desire  them  to  restore  you  the  deed  of  lien  on  the  property." 

Auguste,  who  understood  nothing  of  these  phrases  and 
formalities,  submitted.  He  received  seven  hundred  francs  in 
silver,  the  change  out  of  his  four  thousand-franc  notes,  and 
went  off  in  the  clerk's  company.  He  got  into  the  cab  in  a 
state  of  indescribable  bewilderment,  for  the  end  being 
achieved,  remorse  was  making  itself  felt ;  he  saw  himself  dis- 
graced and  cursed  by  his  grandfather,  whose  austerity  was 
well  known  to  him ;  and  he  believed  that  his  mother  would  die 
of  grief  if  she  heard  of  his  guilt.  All  nature  had  changed 
before  his  eyes.  He  was  lost ;  he  no  longer  saw  the  snow,  the 
houses  looked  like  ghosts. 

No  sooner  was  he  at  home  than  the  young  Baron  decided 
on  his  course  of  action,  and  it  was  certainly  that  of  an  honest 
man.  He  went  into  his  mother's  room  and  took  the  diamond 
snuff-box  given  to  his  grandfather  by  the  Emperor  to  send  it 
with  the  seven  hundred  francs  to  Doctor  Halpersohn  with  the 
following  letter,  which  required  several  rough  copies : 

"MONSIEUR, — The  fruits  of  twenty  years'  labor — my  grand- 
father's work — were  about  to  be  absorbed  by  some  money- 
lenders, who  threatened  him  with  imprisonment.  Three  thou- 
sand three  hundred  francs  were  enough  to  save  him ;  and  see- 
ing so  much  gold  on  your  table,  I  could  not  resist  the  idea  of 
seeing  my  parent  free  by  thus  making  good  to  him  the  earn- 
ings of  his  long  toil.  I  borrowed  from  you,  without  your 
leave,  four  thousand  francs;  but  as  only  three  thousand  three 
hundred  francs  were  needed,  I  send  you  the  remaining  seven 
hundred,  and  with  them  a  snuff-box  set  with  diamonds,  given 
by  the  Emperor  to  my  grandfather;  this  will,  I  hope,  indem- 
nify you.  . 

"If  you  should  not  after  this  believe  that  I,  who  shall  all 


200  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

my  life  regard  you  as  my  benefactor,  am  a  man  of  honor,  if 
you  will  at  any  rate  preserve  silence  as  to  an  action  so  unjusti- 
able  in  any  other  circumstances,  you  will  have  saved  my  grand- 
father as  you  will  save  my  mother,  and  I  shall  be  for  life  your 
devoted  slave. 

"AUGOSTE  DE  MERGI." 

At  about  half-past  two,  Auguste,  who  had  walked  to  the 
Champs-filysees,  sent  a  messenger  on  to  deliver  at  Doctor 
Halpersohn's  door  a  sealed  box  containing  ten  louis,  a  five- 
hundred-franc  note,  and  the  snuff-box;  then  he  slowly  went 
home  across  the  Pont  d'lena  by  the  Invalides  and  the  Boule- 
vards, trusting  to  Doctor  Halpersohn's  generosity. 

The  physician,  who  had  at  once  discovered  the  theft,  had 
meanwhile  changed  his  views  as  to  his  clients.  He  supposed 
that  the  old  man  had  come  to  rob  him,  and,  not  having  suc- 
ceeded, had  sent  this  boy.  He  put  no  credence  in  the  rank 
and  titles  they  had  assumed,  and  went  off  at  once  to  the  public 
prosecutor's  office  to  state  his  case,  and  desire  that  immediate- 
steps  should  be  taken  for  the  prosecution. 

The  prudence  of  the  law  rarely  allows  of  such  rapid  pro- 
ceedings as  the  complaining  parties  would  wish  ;  but,  at  about 
three  in  the  afternoon,  a  police  officer,  followed  by  some  detec- 
tives, who  affected  to  be  lounging  on  the  boulevard,  was  cate- 
chizing Madame  Vauthier  as  to  her  lodgers,  and  the  widow 
quite  unconsciously  was  confirming  the  constable's  suspi- 
cions. 

Ne'pomucene,  scenting  the  policeman,  thought  that  it  was 
the  old  man  they  wanted ;  and  as  he  was  very  fond  of  Mon- 
sieur Auguste,  he  hurried  out  to  meet  Monsieur  Bernard, 
whom  he  intercepted  in  the  Avenue  de  1'Observatoire. 

"Make  your  escape,  monsieur,"  cried  he.  "They  have  come 
to  take  you.  The  bailiffs  were  in  yesterday  and  laid  hands 
on  everything.  Mother  Vauthier,  who  has  hidden  feome 
stamped  papers  of  yours,  said  you  would  be  in  Clichy  by  last 
night  or  this  morning.  There,  do  you  see  those  sneaks?" 

The  old  judge  recognized  the  men  as  bailiffs,  and  he  under- 
stood everything. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  201 

"And  Monsieur  Godefroid  ?"  he  asked. 

"Gone,  never  to  come  back.  Mother  Vauthier  says  he  was  a 
spy  for  your  enemies." 

Monsieur  Bourlac  determined  that  he  would  go  at  once  to 
Barbet,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  was  there;  the  old 
bookseller  lived  in  the  Rue  Sainte-Catherine-d'Enfer. 

"Oh,  you  have  come  yourself  to  fetch  your  agreement,"  said 
the  publisher,  bowing  to  his  victim.  "Here  it  is,"  and,  to  the 
Baron's  great  amazement,  he  handed  him  the  document,  which 
the  old  lawyer  took,  saying : 

"I  do  not  understand " 

"Then  it  was  not  you  who  paid  up?"  said  Barbet. 

"Are  you  paid?" 

"Your  grandson  carried  the  money  to  the  bailiff  this  morn- 
ing." 

"And  is  it  true  that  you  took  possession  of  my  goods  yester- 
day?" 

"Have  you  not  been  home  for  two  days?"  said  Barbet. 
"Still,  a  retired  public  prosecutor  must  know  what  it  is  to  be 
threatened  with  imprisonment  for  debt !" 

On  this  the  Baron  bowed  coldly  to  Barbet,  and  returned 
home,  supposing  that  the  authorities  had  in  fact  come  in 
search  of  the  authors  living  on  the  first  floor.  He  walked 
slowly,  absorbed  in  vague  apprehensions,  for  Nepomucene's 
warning  seemed  to  him  more  and  more  inexplicable.  Could 
Godefroid  have  betrayed  him  ?  He  mechanically  turned  down 
the  Rue  Notre-Dame  des  Champs,  and  went  in  by  the  back 
door,  which  happened  to  be  open,  running  against  Nepomu- 
cene. 

"Oh,  monsieur,  make  haste,  come  on ;  they  are  taking  Mon- 
sieur Auguste  to  prison;  they  caught  him  on  the  boulevard; 
it  was  him  they  were  hunting — they  have  been  questioning 
him " 

The  old  man,  with  a  spring  like  a  tiger's,  rushed  through 
the  house  and  garden  and  out  on  to  the  boulevard,  as  swift  as 
an  arrow,  and  was  just  in  time  to  see  his  grandson  get  into 
a  hackney  coach  between  three  men. 


202  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Aiiguste,"  he  cried,  "what  is  the  meaning  of  this?" 

The  youth  burst  into  tears,  and  turned  faint. 

"Monsieur,"  said  he  to  the  police  officer,  whose  scarf  struck 
his  eye,  "I  am  Baron  Bourlac,  formerly  a  public  prosecutor; 
for  pity's  sake,  explain  the  matter." 

"Monsieur,  if  you  are  Baron  Bourlac,  you  will  understand 
it  in  two  words.  I  have  just  questioned  this  young  man,  and 
he  has  unfortunately  confessed " 

"What  ?" 

"A  theft  of  four  thousand  francs  from  Doctor  Halpersohn." 

"Auguste !     Is  it  possible  ?" 

"Grandpapa,  I  have  sent  him  your  diamond  snuff-box  as  a 
guarantee.  I  wanted  to  save  you  from  the  disgrace  of  im- 
prisonment." 

"Wretched  boy,  what  have  you  done?"  cried  the  Baron. 
"The  diamonds  are  false;  I  sold  the  real  stones  three  years 
ago." 

The  police  officer  and  his  clerk  looked  at  each  other  with 
strange  meaning.  This  glance,  full  of  suggestions,  was  seen 
by  the  Baron,  and  fell  like  a  thunderbolt. 

"Monsieur,"  said  he  to  the  officer,  "be  quite  easy ;  I  will  go 
and  see  the  public  prosecutor;  you  can  testify  to  the  delusion 
in  which  I  have  kept  my  daughter  and  my  grandson.  You 
must  do  your  duty,  but  in  the  name  of  humanity,  send  my 
grandson  to  a  cell  by  himself. — I  will  go  to  prison. — Where 
are  you  taking  him  ?" 

"Are  you  Baron  Bourlac  ?"  said  the  constable. 

"Oh!  Monsieur " 

"Because  the  public  prosecutor,  the  examining  judge,  and 
I  myself  could  not  believe  that  such  men  as  you  and  your 
grandson  could  be  guilty;  like  the  doctor,  we  concluded  that 
some  swindlers  had  borrowed  your  names." 

He  took  the  Baron  aside  and  said : 

"Were  you  at  Doctor  Halpersohn's  house  this  morning?" 

"Yes,  monsieur." 

"And  your  grandson  too,  about  half-an-hour  later?" 

"I  know  nothing  about  that;  I  have  this  instant  come  in, 
and  I  have  not  seen  my  grandson  since  yesterday." 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  203 

"The  writs  he  showed  me  and  the  warrant  for  arrest  ex- 
p)  un  everything,"  said  the  police  agent.  "I  know  his  motive 
fot  the  crime.  I  ought  indeed  to  arrest  you,  monsieur,  as 
abetting  your  grandson,  for  your  replies  confirm  the  facts 
alleged  by  the  complainant;  but  the  notices  served  on  you, 
and1  which  I  return  to  you,"  he  added,  holding  out  a  packet 
of  stamped  papers  which  he  had  in  his  hand,  "certainly  prove 
you  to  be  Baron  Bourlac.  At  the  same  time,  you  must  be  pre- 
pared to  be  called  up  before  Monsieur  Marest,  the  examining 
judge  in  this  case.  I  believe  I  am  right  in  relaxing  the  usual 
rule  in  consideration  of  your  past  dignity. 

"As  to  your  grandson,  I  will  speak  of  him  to  the  public 
prosecutor  as  soon  as  I  go  in,  and  we  will  show  every  possible 
consideration  for  the  grandson  of  a  retired  judge,  and  the  vic- 
tim of  a  youthful  error.  Still,  there  is  the  indictment,  the 
accused  has  confessed;  I  have  sent  in  my  report,  and  have  a 
warrant  for  his  imprisonment;  I  cannot  help  myself.  As  to 
the  place  of  detention,  your  grandson  will  be  taken  to  the 
Conciergerie." 

"Thank  you,  monsieur,"  said  the  miserable  Bourlac.  He 
fell  senseless  on  the  snow,  and  tumbled  into  one  of  the  rain- 
water cisterns,  which  at  that  time  divided  the  trees  on  the 
boulevard. 

The  police  officer  called  for  help,  and  Nepomucene  hurried 
out  with  Madame  Vauthier.  The  old  man  was  carried  in- 
doors, and  the  woman  begged  the  police  constable,  as  he  went 
by  the  Rue  d'Eufer,  to  send  Doctor  Berton  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  my  grandfather?"  asked  poor 
Auguste. 

"He  is  crazed,  sir.    That  is  what  comes  of  thieving!" 

Auguste  made  a  rush  as  though  to  crack  his  skull ;  but  the 
two  men  held  him  back. 

"Come,  come,  young  man.  Take  it  quietly,"  said  the  officer. 
"Be  calm.  You  have  done  wrong,  but  it  is  not  irremediable." 

"But  pray,  monsieur,  tell  tho  woman  that  my  grandfather 
has  probably  not  touched  food  for  these  twenty-four  hours." 


204  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

"Oh,  poor  creatures !"  said  the  officer  to  himself. 

He  stopped  the  coach,  which  had  started,  and  said  a  word 
in  his  clerk's  ear;  the  man  ran  off  to  speak  to  old  Vauthier, 
and  then  returned  at  once. 

Monsieur  Berton  was  of  opinion  that  Monsieur  Bernard — 
for  he  knew  him  hy  no  other  name — was  suffering  from  an 
attack  of  high  fever;  but  when  Madame  Vauthier  had  told 
him  of  all  the  events  that  had  led  up  to  it  in  the  way  in  which 
a  housekeeper  tells  a  stor}r,  the  doctor  thought  it  necessary 
to  report  the  whole  business  next  day  to  Monsieur  Alain  at 
the  Church  of  Saint-Jacques  du  Haut-Pas,  and  Monsieur 
Alain  sent  a  pencil  note  by  messenger  to  Monsieur  Nicolas, 
Eue  Chanoinesse. 

Godefroid,  on  reaching  home  the  night  before,  had  given 
the  notes  on  the  book  to  Monsieur  Nicolas,  who  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  night  in  reading  the  first  volume  of  Baron 
Bourlac's  work. 

On  the  following  day  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  told  Gode- 
froid that  if  his  determination  still  held  good,  he  might  begin 
on  his  work  at  once. 

Godefroid,  initiated  by  her  into  the  financial  secrets  of  the 
Society,  worked  for  seven  or  eight  hours  a  day,  and  for  several 
months,  under  the  supervision  of  Frederic  Mongenod,  who 
came  every  Sunday  to  look  through  the  work,  and  who  praised 
him  for  the  way  in  which  it  was  done. 

"You  are  a  valuable  acquisition  for  the  saints  among  whom 
you  live,"  said  the  banker  when  all  the  accounts  were  clearly 
set  forth  and  balanced.  "Two  or  three  hours  a  day  will  now 
be  enough  to  keep  the  accounts  in  order,  and  during  the  rest 
of  your  time  you  can  help  them,  if  you  still  feel  the  vocation 
as  you  did  six  months  since." 

This  was  in  the  month  of  July  1838.  During  the  time  that 
had  elapsed  since  the  affair  of  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Par- 
nasse,  Godefroid,  eager  to  prove  himself  worthy  of  his  com- 
panions, had  never  asked  a  single  question  as  to  Baron  Bour- 
)ac;  for,  as  he  had  not  heard  a  word,  nor  found  anything  in 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  205 

the  account-books  that  bore  on  the  matter,  he  suspected  that 
the  silence  that  was  preserved  with  regard  to  the  two  men  who 
had  been  so  ruthless  to  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  was  intended 
as  a  test  to  which  he  was  being  put,  or  perhaps  as  proof  that 
the  noble  lady's  friends  had  avenged  her. 

But,  two  months  later,  in  the  course  of  a  walk  one  day,  he 
went  as  far  as  the  Boulevard  du  Mont-Parnasse,  managed 
to  meet  Madame  Vauthier,  and  asked  her  for  some  news  of  the 
Bernard  family. 

"Who  can  tell,  my  dear  Monsieur  Godefroid,  what  has  be- 
come of  those  people.  Two  days  after  your  expedition — for  it 
was  you,  you  cunning  dog,  who  blabbed  to  my  landlord — 
som'ebody  came  who  took  that  old  swaggerer  off  my  hands. 
Then,  in  four-and-twenty  hours,  everything  was  cleared  out 
— not  a  stick  left,  nor  a  word  said — perfect  strangers  to  me, 
and  they  told  me  nothing.  I  believe  he  packed  himself  off 
to  Algiers  with  his  precious  grandson;  for  Nepomucene,  who 
was  very  devoted  to  that  young  thief — he  is  no  better  than  he 
should  be  himself — did  not  find  him  in  the  Conciergerie,  and 
he  alone  knows  where  they  are,  and  the  scamp  has  gone  off  and 
left  me.  You  bring  up  these  wretched  foundlings,  and  this 
is  the  reward  you  get;  they  leave  you  high  and  dry.  I  have 
not  been  able  to  find  any  one  to  take  his  place,  and  as  the 
neighborhood  is  very  crowded,  and  the  house  is  full,  I  am 
worked  to  death." 

And  Godefroid  would  never  have  known  anything  more  of 
Baron  Bourlac  but  for  the  conclusion  of  the  adventure,  which 
came  about  through  one  of  the  chance  meetings  which  occur 
in  Paris. 

In  the  month  of  September,  Godefroid  was  walking  down 
the  Champs-filysees,  when,  as  he  passed  the  end  of  the  Eue 
Marbeuf,  he  remembered  Doctor  Halpersohn. 

"I  ought  to  call  on  him,"  thought  he,  "and  ask  if  he  cured 
Bourlac's  daughter.  What  a  voice,  what  a  gift  she  had !  She 
wanted  to  dedicate  herself  to  God !" 

As  he  got  to  the  Rond-Point,  Godefroid  crossed  the  road 
hurriedly  to  avoid  the  carriages  that  came  quickly  down  the 


206  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

grand  avenue,  and  he  ran  up  against  a  youth  who  had  a  young- 
looking  woman  on  his  arm. 

"Take  care  I"  cried  the  young  man.     "Are  you  blind  ?" 

"Why,  it  is  you !"  cried  Godefroid,  recognizing  Auguste  de 
Mergi. 

Auguste  was  so  well  dressed,  so  handsome,  so  smart,  so 
proud  of  the  lady  he  was  escorting,  that,  but  for  the  mem- 
ories that  rushed  on  his  mind,  Godefroid  would  hardly  have 
recognized  them. 

"Why,  it  is  dear  Monsieur  Godefroid !"  exclaimed  the  lady. 

On  hearing  the  delightful  tones  of  Vanda's  enchanting 
voice,  and  seeing  her  walking,  Godefroid  stood  riveted  to  the 
spot. 

"Cured !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Ten  days  ago  he  allowed  me  to  walk,"  she  replied. 

"Halpersohn?" 

"Yes,"  said  she.  "And  why  have  you  never  come  to  see  us  ? 
— But,  indeed,  you  were  wise.  My  hair  was  not  cut  off  till 
about  a  week  ago.  This  that  you  see  is  but  a  wig;  but  the 
doctor  assures  me  it  will  grow  again ! — But  we  have  so  much 
to  say  to  each  other.  Will  you  not  come  to  dine  with  us  ? — 
Oh,  that  harmonium ! — Oh,  monsieur !"  and  she  put  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes.  "I  will  treasure  it  all  my  life !  My  son 
will  preserve  it  as  a  relic. — My  father  has  sought  for  you  all 
through  Paris,  and  he  is  anxiously  in  search,  too,  of  his  un- 
known benefactors.  He  will  die  of  grief  if  you  cannot  help 
him  to  find  them.  He  suffers  from  the  darkest  melancholy, 
and  I  cannot  always  succeed  in  rousing  him  from  it." 

Fascinated  alike  by  the  voice  of  this  charming  woman  re- 
called from  the  grave,  and  by  that  of  irresistible  curiosity, 
Godefroid  gave  his  arm  to  the  hand  held  out  by  the  Baronne 
de  Mergi,  who  let  her  son  go  on  in  front  with  an  errand,  which 
the  lad  had  understood  from  his  mother's  nod. 

"I  shall  not  take  you  far ;  we  are  living  in  the  Allee  d'Antin 
in  a  pretty  little  house  a  I'Anglaise;  we  have  it  all  to  our- 
selves, each  of  us  occupies  a  floor.  Oh,  we  are  very  comfort- 
able !  And  my  father  believes  that  you  have  had  a  great  deal 
to  do  with  the  good  fortune  that  is  poured  upon  us " 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY  207 

"I  ?" 

"Did  you  not  know  that  a  place  has  been  created  for  him 
in  consequence  of  a  report  from  the  Minister  for  Public  In- 
struction,, a  Chair  of  Legislature,  like  one  at  the  Sorbonne? 
My  father  will  give  his  first  course  of  lectures  in  the  month 
of  November  next.  The  great  work  on  which  he  was  engaged 
will  be  published  in  a  month  or  so;  the  house  of  Cavalier  is 
bringing  it  out  on  half-profits  with  my  father,  and  has  paid 
him  thirty  thousand  francs  on  account  of  his  share;  so  he  is 
buying  the  house  we  live  in.  The  Minister  of  Justice  allows 
me  a  pension  of  twelve  hundred  francs  as  the  daughter  of  a 
retired  magistrate;  my  father  has  his  pension  of  a  thousand 
crowns,  and  he  had  five  thousand  francs  with  his  professor- 
ship. We  are  so  economical  that  we  shall  be  almost  rich. 

"My  Auguste  will  begin  studying  the  law  a  few  months 
hence;  meanwhile,  he  has  employment  in  the  public  prosecu- 
tor's office,  and  gets  twelve  hundred  francs. — Oh,  Monsieur 
Godefroid,  never  mention  that  miserable  business  of  my  poor 
Auguste's.  For  my  part,  I  bless  him  every  day  for  the  deed 
which  his  grandfather  has  not  yet  forgiven.  His  mother 
blesses  him,  Halpersohn  is  devoted  to  him,  but  the  old  public 
prosecutor  is  implacable !" 

"What  business?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"Ah  !  that  is  just  like  your  generosity !"  cried  Vanda.  "You 
have  a  noble  heart.  Your  mother  must  be  proud  of  you  ! -" 

"On  my  word,  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter  you  allude  to," 
said  Godefroid. 

"Really,  you  did  not  hear?"  And  she  frankly  told  the  story 
of  Auguste's  borrowing  from  the  doctor,  admiring  her  son  for 
the  action. 

"But  if  I  am  to  say  nothing  about  this  bef6re  the  Baron," 
said  Godefroid,  "tell  me  how  your  son  got  out  of  the  scrape." 

"Well,"  said  Vanda,  "as  I  told  you,  my  son  is  in  the  public 
prosecutor's  office,  and  has  met  with  the  greatest  kindness.  He 
was  not  kept  more  than  eight-and-forty  hours  in  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  where  he  was  lodged  with  the  governor.  The 
worthy  doctor,  who  did  not  get  Auguste's  beautiful,  sublime 


208  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

letter  till  the  evening,  withdrew  the  charge ;  and  by  the  inter- 
vention of  a  former  presiding  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court — 
a  man  my  father  had  never  even  seen — the  public  prosecutor 
had  the  police  agent's  report  and  the  warrant  for  arrest  both 
destroyed.  In  fact,  not  a  trace  of  the  affair  survives  but  in  my 
heart,  in  my  son's  conscience,  and  in  his  grandfather's  mind 
— who,  since  that  day,  speaks  to  my  boy  in  the  coldest  terms, 
and  treats  him  as  a  stranger. 

"Only  yesterday,  Halpersohn  was  interceding  for  him ;  but 
my  father,  who  will  not  listen  to  me,  much  as  he  loves  me, 
replied:  'You  are  the  person  robbed,  you  can  and  ought  to 
forgive.  But  I  am  answerable  for  the  thief — and  when  I  sat 
on  the  Bench,  I  never  pronounced  a  pardon !' — 'You  will  kill 
your  daughter,'  said  Halpersohn — I  heard  them.  My  father 
kept  silence." 

"But  who  is  it  that  has  helped  you?" 

"A  gentleman  who  is,  we  believe,  employed  to  distribute 
the  benefactions  of  the  Queen." 

"What  is  he  like?"  asked  Godefroid. 

"He  is  a  grave,  thin  man,  sad-looking — something  like  my 
father.  It  was  he  who  had  my  father  conveyed  to  the  house 
where  we  now  are,  when  he  was  in  a  high  fever.  And,  just 
fancy,  as  soon  as  my  father  was  well,  I  was  removed  from  the 
private  hospital  and  brought  there,  where  I  found  my  old 
bedroom  just  as  though  I  had  never  left  it. — Halpersohn, 
whom  the  tall  gentleman  had  quite  bewitched — how  I  know 
not — then  told  me  all  about  my  father's  sufferings,  and  how  he 
had  sold  the  diamonds  off  his  snuff-box !  My  father  and  my 
boy  often  without  bread,  and  making  believe  to  be  rich  in  my 
presence ! — Oh,  Monsieur  Godefroid,  those  two  men  are  mar- 
tyrs !  What  can  I  say  to  my  father  ?  I  can  only  repay  him 
and  my  son  by  suffering  for  them,  like  them." 

"And  had  the  tall  gentleman  something  of  a  military  air?" 

"Oh,  you  know  him !"  cried  Vanda,  as  they  reached  the 
door  of  the  house. 

She  seized  Godefroid's  hand  with  the  grip  of  a  woman  in 
hysterics,  and  dragging  him  into  a  drawing-room  of  which 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  209 

the  door  stood  open,  she  exclaimed — "Father,  Monsieur  Gode- 
froid  knows  your  benefactor." 

Baron  Bourlac,  whom  Godefroid  found  dressed  in  a  style 
suitable  to  a  retired  judge  of  his  high  rank,  held  out  his  hand 
to  Godefroid,  and  said : 

"I  thought  as  much." 

Godefroid  shook  his  head  in  negation  of  any  knowledge  of 
the  details  of  this  noble  revenge;  but  the  Baron  did  not  give 
him  time  to  speak. 

"Monsieur,"  he  want  on,  "only  Providence  can  be  more 
powerful,  only  Love  can  be  more  thoughtful,  only  Mother- 
hood can  be  more  clear-sighted,  than  your  friends  who  are 
allied  with  those  great  divinities. — I  bless  the  chance  that  has 
led  to  our  meeting  again,  for  Monsieur  Joseph  has  vanished 
completely ;  and  as  he  has  succeeded  in  avoiding  every  snare  I 
could  lay  to  ascertain  his  real  name  and  residence,  I  should 
have  died  in  grief. — But  here,  read  his  letter. — And  you  know 
him?" 

Godefroid  read  as  follows : 

"Monsieur  le  Baron  Bourlac,  the  money  we  have  laid  out 
for  you  by  the  orders  of  a  charitable  lady  amounts  to  a  sum 
of  fifteen  thousand  francs.  Take  note  of  this,  that  it  may  be 
repaid  either  by  you  or  by  your  descendants  when  your  family 
is  sufficiently  prosperous  to  allow  of  it,  for  it  belongs  to  the 
poor.  When  such  repayment  is  possible,  deposit  the  money 
you  owe  with  the  Brothers  Mongenod,  bankers.  God  forgive 
you  your  sins !" 

The  letter  was  mysteriously  signed  with  five  crosses. 

Godefroid  returned  it. — "The  five  crosses,  sure  enough!" 
said  he  to  himself. 

"Xow,  since  you  know  all,"  said  the  old  man,  "you  who 
were  this  mysterious  lady's  messenger — tell  me  her  name." 

"Her  name  !"  cried  Godefroid ;  "her  name !  Unhappy  man, 
never  ask  it !  never  try  to  find  it  out. — Oh,  madame,"  said  he, 
taking  Madame  de  Mergi's  hand  in  his  own,  which  shook,  "if 


210  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY 

you  value  your  father's  sanity,  keep  him  in  his  ignorance; 
never  let  him  make  any  attempt " 

The  father,  the  daughter,  and  Auguste  stood  frozen  with 
amazement. 

"Well,  then,  the  woman  who  has  preserved  your  daughter 
for  you,"  said  Godefroid,  looking  at  the  old  lawyer,  "who  has 
restored  her  to  you,  young,  lovely,  fresh,  and  living — who  has 
snatched  her  from  the  grave — who  has  rescued  }rour  grandson 
from  disgrace — who  has  secured  to  you  a  happy  and  respected 

old  age — who  has  saved  you  all  three "  he  paused,  "is  a 

woman  whom  you  sent  innocent  to  the  hulks  for  twenty  years," 
he  went  on,  addressing  Monsieur  Bourlac,  "on  whom,  from 
your  judgment-seat,  you  poured  every  insult,  whose  saintli- 
ness  you  mocked  at,  and  from  whom  you  snatched  a  lovely 
daughter  to  send  her  to  the  most  horrible  death,  for  she  was 
guillotined !" 

Godefroid,  seeing  Vanda  drop  senseless  on  to  a  chair,  rushed 
out  of  the  room,  and  from  thence  into  the  Alice  d'Antin, 
where  he  took  to  his  heels. 

"If  you  would  earn  my  forgiveness,"  said  Baron  Bourlac 
to  his  grandson,  "follow  that  man  and  find  out  where  he  lives." 

Auguste  was  off  like  a  dart. 

By  half-past  eight  next  morning,  Baron  Bourlac  was  knock- 
ing at  the  old  yellow  gate  of  the  Hotel  de  la  Chanterie,  Eue 
Chanoinesse.  He  asked  for  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  and 
the  porter  pointed  to  the  stone  steps.  Happily  they  were  all 
going  to  breakfast,  and  Godefroid  recognized  the  Baron  in  the 
courtyard  through  one  of  the  loopholes  that  lighted  the  stairs. 
He  had  but  just  time  to  fly  down  and  into  the  drawing-room 
where  they  were  all  assembled,  crying  out — "Baron  Bourlac." 

On  hearing  this  name,  Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  supported 
by  the  Abbe  de  Veze,  disappeared  into  her  room. 

"You  shall  not  come  in,  you  hnp  of  Satan !"  cried  Manon, 
who  recognized  the  lawyer,  and  placed  herself  in  front  of  the 
drawing-room  door.  "Do  you  want  to  kill  my  mistress?" 

"Come,  Manon,  let  the  gentleman  pass,"  said  Monsieur 
Alain. 


THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY  '    211 

Manon  dropped  on  to  a  chair  as  if  her  knees  had  both  given 
way  at  once. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  Baron  in  a  voice  of  'deep  emotion,  as 
he  recognized  Godefroid  and  Monsieur  Joseph,  and  bowed  to 
the  two  strangers,  "Beneficence  confers  a  claim  on  those  bene- 
fited by  it !" 

"You  ove  nothing  to  us,"  said  the  worthy  Alain ;  "you  owe 
everything  to  God." 

"You  aie  saints,  and  you  have  the  serenity  of  saints,"  re- 
plied the  old  lawyer.  "You  will  hear  me,  I  beg. — I  have 
learned  that  the  superhuman  blessings  that  have  been  heaped 
on  me  for  eighteen  months  past  are  the  work  of  a  person  whom 
I  deeply  injured  in  the  course  of  my  duty ;  it  was  fifteen  years 
before  I  was  assured  of  her  innocence ;  this,  gentlemen,  is  the 
single  remorse  I  have  known  as  due  to  the  exercise  of  my 
powers. — Listen !  I  have  not  much  longer  to  live,  but  I  shall 
lose  that  short  term  of  life,  necessary  still  to  my  children 
whom  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  has  saved,  if  I  cannot  win  her 
forgiveness.  Gentlemen,  I  will  remain  kneeling  on  the  square 
of  Notre-Dame  till  she  has  spoken  one  word ! — I  will  wait  for 
her  there  ! — I  will  kiss  the  print  of  her  feet ;  I  will  find  tears 
to  soften  her  heart — I  who  have  been  dried  up  like  a  straw 
by  seeing  my  daughter's  sufferings " 

The  door  of  Madame  de  la  Chanterie's  room  was  opened, 
the  Abbe  de  Veze  came  through  like  a  shade,  and  said  to  Mon- 
sieur Joseph : 

"That  voice  is  killing  Madame." 

"What !  she  is  there  !    She  has  passed  there  !"  cried  Bourlac. 

He  fell  on  his  knees,  kissed  the  floor,  and  melted  into  tears, 
crying  in  a  heartrending  tone : 

"In  the  name  of  Jesus  who  died  on  the  Cross,  forgive !  for- 
give !  For  my  child  has  suffered  a  thousand  deaths !" 

The  old  man  collapsed  so  entirely  that  the  spectators  be- 
lieved he  was  dead. 

At  this  moment  Madame  de  la  Chanterie  appeared  like  a 
spectre  in  the  doorway,  leaning,  half-fainting,  against  the 
side-post. 


212  THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OP  HISTORY 

"In  the  name  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  whom 
I  see  on  the  scaffold,  of  Madame  Elizabeth,  of  my  daughter, 
and  of  yours — in"  the  name  of  Jesus,  I  forgive  you." 

As  he  heard  the  words,  the  old  man  looked  up  and  said : 

"Thus  are  the  angels  avenged." 

Monsieur  Joseph  and  Monsieur  Nicolas  helped  him  to  his 
feet,  and  led  him  out  to  the  courtyard;  Godefroid  went  to 
call  a  coach ;  and  when  they  heard  the  rattle  of  wheels,  Mon- 
sieur Xicolas  said  as  he  helped  the  old  man  into  it : 

"Come  no  more,  monsieur,  or  you  will  kill  the  mother  too. 
The  power  of  God  is  infinite,  but  human  nature  has  its 
limits." 

That  day  Godefroid  joined  the  Order  of  the  Brethren  of 
Consolation. 

VIESZCHOVNIA,  UKRAINE,  December  1847. 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

To  Henri  Heine. 

I  inscribe  this  to  you,  my  dear  Heine,  to  you  that  represent  in' 
Paris  the  ideas  and  poetry  of  Germany,  in  Germany  the  lively  and 
witty  criticism  of  France ;  for  you  better  than  any  other  will  know 
whatsoever  this  Study  may  contain  of  criticism  and  of  jest,  of 

love  and  truth. 

DE  BALZAC. 

"MY  dear  friend/'  said  Mme.  de  la  Baudraye,  drawing  a  pile 
of  manuscript  from  beneath  her  sofa  cushion,  "will  you  par- 
don me  in  our  present  straits  for  making  a  short  story  of  some- 
thing which  you  told  me  a  few  weeks  ago?" 

"Anything  is  fair  in  these  times.  Have  you  not  seen  writers 
serving  up  their  own  hearts  to  the  public,  or  very  often  their 
mistress'  hearts  when  invention  fails?  We  are  coming  to 
this,  dear;  we  shall  go  in  quest  of  adventures,  not  so  much  for 
the  pleasure  of  them  as  for  the  sake  of  having  the  story  to 
tell  afterwards." 

"After  all,  you  and  the  Marquise  de  Eochefide  have  paid 
the  rent,  and  I  do  not  think,  from  the  way  things  are  going 
here,  that  I  ever  pay  yours." 

"Who  knows?  Perhaps  the  same  good  luck  that  befell 
Mme.  de  Rochefide  may  come  to  you." 

"Do  you  call  it  good  luck  to  go  back  to  one's  husband?" 

"No ;  only  great  luck.    Come,  I  am  listening." 

And  Mme.  de  la  Baudraye  read  as  follows : 

"Scene — a  splendid  salon  in  the  Rue  de  Chartres-du-Roule. 
One  of  the  most  famous  writers  of  the  day  discovered  sit- 
ting on  a  settee  beside  a  very  illustrious  Marquise,  with  whom 

(213) 


214  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

he  is  on  such  terms  of  intimacy,  as  a  man  has  a  right  to  claim 
when  a  woman  singles  him  out  and  keeps  him  at  her  side  as  a 
complacent  souffre-douleur  rather  than  a  makeshift." 

"Well,"  says  she,  "have  you  found  those  letters  of  which 
you  spoke  yesterday?  You  said  that  you  could  not  tell  me 
all  about  him  without  them?" 

"Yes,  I  have  them." 

"It  is  your  turn  to  speak;  I  am  listening  like  a  child  when 
his  mother  begins  the  tale  of  Le  Grand  Serpenlin  Vert." 

"I  count  the  young  man  in  question  in  that  group  of  our 
acquaintances  which  we  are  wont  to  style  our  friends.  He 
comes  of  a  good  family;  he  is  a  man  of  infinite  parts  and 
ill-luck,  full  of  excellent  dispositions  and  most  charming 
conversation;  young  as  he  is,  he  has  seen  much,  and  while 
awaiting  better  things,  he  dwells  in  Bohemia.  Bohemianism, 
which  by  rights  should  be  called  the  doctrine  of  the  Boule- 
vard des  Italiens,  finds  its  recruits  among  young  men  be- 
tween twenty  and  thirty,  all  of  them  men  of  genius  in  their 
way,  little  known,  it  is  true,  as  yet,  but  sure  of  recognition 
one  day,  and  when  that  day  comes,  of  great  distinction.  They 
are  distinguished  as  it  is  at  carnival  time,  when  their  ex- 
uberant wit,  repressed  for  the  rest  of  the  year,  finds  a  vent 
in  more  or  less  ingenious  buffoonery. 

"What  times  we  live  in !  What  an  irrational  central  power 
which  allows  such  tremendous  energies  to  run  to  waste! 
There  are  diplomatists  in  Bohemia  quite  capable  of  over- 
turning Eussia's  designs,  if  they  but  felt  the  power  of 
France  at  their  backs.  There  are  writers,  adminis- 
trators, soldiers,  and  artists  in  Bohemia;  every  faculty, 
every  kind  of  brain  is  represented  there.  Bohemia  is  a 
microcosm.  If  the  Czar  would  buy  Bohemia  for  a  score 
of  millions  and  set  its  population  down  in  Odessa — always 
supposing  that  they  consented  to  leave  the  asphalt  of  the 
boulevards — Odessa  would  be  Paris  with  the  year.  In 
Bohemia,  you  find  the  flower  doomed  to  wither  and  come 
to  nothing;  the  flower  of  the  wonderful  young  manhood  of 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  215 

France,  so  sought  after  by  Napoleon  and  Louis  XIV.,  so 
neglected  for  the  last  thirty  years  by  the  modern  Gerontocracy 
that  is  blighting  everything  else — that  splendid  young  man- 
hood of  whom  a  witness  so  little  prejudiced  as  Professor 
Tissot  wrote,  'On  all  sides  the  Emperor  employed  a  younger 
generation  in  every  way  worthy  of  him;  in  his  councils,  in 
the  general  administration,  in  negotiations  bristling  with 
difficulties  or  full  of  danger,  in  the  government  of  conquered 
countries;  and  in  all  places  Youth  responded  to  his  demands 
upon  it.  Young  men  were  for  Napoleon  the  missi  hominici 
of  Charlemagne.' 

"The  word  Bohemia  tells  you  everything.  Bohemia  has 
nothing  and  lives  upon  what  it  has.  Hope  is  its  religion; 
faith  (in  oneself)  its  creed;  and  charity  is  supposed  to  be  its 
budget.  All  these  young  men  are  greater  than  their  mis- 
fortune; they  are  under  the  feet  of  Fortune,  yet  more  than 
equal  to  Fate.  Always  ready  to  mount  and  ride  an  if,  witty 
as  a  feuilleton,  blithe  as  only  those  can  be  that  are  deep  in 
debt  and  drink  deep  to  match,  and  finally — for  here  I  come  to 
my  point — hot  lovers,  and  what  lovers !  Picture  to  yourself 
Lovelace,  and  Henri  Quatre,  and  the  Regent,  and  Werther,  and 
Saint-Preux,  and  Rene,  and  the  Marechal  de  Richelieu — think 
of  all  these  in  a  single  man,  and  you  will  have  some  idea  of 
their  way  of  love.  What  lovers !  Eclectic  of  all  things  in 
love,  they  will  serve  up  a  passion  to  a  woman's  order;  their 
hearts  are  like  a  bill  of  fare  in  a  restaurant.  Perhaps  they 
have  never  read  Stendhal's  De  I' Amour,  but  unconsciously 
they  put  it  in  practice.  They  have  by  heart  their  chapters 
—Love-Taste,  Love-Passion,  Love-Caprice,  Love-Crystal- 
ized,  and  more  than  all,  Love-Transient.  All  is  good  in  their 
eyes.  They  invented  the  burlesque  axiom,  'In  the  sight  of 
man,  all  women  are  equal.'  The  actual  text  is  more  vigorously 
worded,  but  as  in  my  opinion  the  spirit  is  false,  I  do  not  stand 
nice  upon  the  letter. 

"My  friend,  madame,  is  named  Gabriel  Jean  Anne  Victor 
Benjamin  George  Ferdinand  Charles  Edward  Rusticoli, 
Comte  de  la  Palferine.  The  Rusticolis  came  to  France  with 


216  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

Catherine  del  Medici,  having  been  ousted  about  that  time 
from  their  infinitesimal  Tuscan  sovereignty.  They  are  dis- 
tantly related  to  the  house  of  Este,  and  connected  by  mar- 
riage with  the  Guises.  On  the  Day  of  Saint-Bartholomew 
they  slew  a  goodly  number  of  Protestants,  and  Charles  IX. 
bestowed  the  hand  of  the  heiress  of  the  Comte  de  la  Palferine 
upon  the  Eusticoli  of  that  time.  The  Comte,  however,  being 
a  part  of  the  confiscated  lands  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  was  re- 
purchased by  Henri  IV.  when  that  great  king  so  far  blun- 
dered as  to  restore  the  fief;  and  in  exchange,  the  Rusticoli — 
who  had  borne  arms  long  before  the  Medici  bore  them, 
to- wit,  argent  a  cross  flory  azure  (the  cross  flower-de-luced 
by  letters  patent  granted  by  Charles  IX.),  and  a  count's  coro- 
net, with  two  peasants  for  supporters  with  the  motto  IN  HOC 
SIGNO  VINCIMUS — the  Rusticoli,  I  repeat,  retained  their  title, 
and  received  a  couple  of  offices  under  the  crown  with  the 
government  of  a  province. 

"From  the  time  of  the  Valois  till  the  reign  of  Richelieu,  as 
it  may  be  called,  the  Rusticoli  played  a  most  illustrious  part ; 
under  Louis  XIV.  their  glory  waned  somewhat,  under  Louis 
XV.  it  went  out  altogether.  My  friend's  grandfather  wasted 
all  that  was  left  to  the  once  brilliant  house  with  Mile.  La- 
guerre,  whom  he  first  discovered,  and  brought  into  fashion 
before  Bouret's  time.  Charles  Edward's  own  father  was  an 
officer  without  any  fortune  in  1789.  The  Revolution  came 
to  his  assistance ;  he  had  the  sense  to  drop  his  title,  and  became 
plain  Rusticoli.  Among  other  deeds,  M.  Rusticoli  married  a 
wife  during  the  war  in  Italy,  a  Capponi,  a  goddaughter  of  the 
Countess  of  Albany  (hence  La  Palferine's  final  names).  Rus- 
ticoli was  one  of  the  best  colonels  in  the  army.  The  Emperor 
made  him  a  commander  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  and  a  count. 
His  spine  was  slightly  curved,  and  his  son  was  wont  to  say 
of  him  laughingly  that  he  was  un  comte  refait  (contrefait) . 

"General  Count  Rusticoli,  for  he  became  a  brigadier-gen- 
eral at  Ratisbon  and  a  general  of  the  division  on  the  field  of 
Wagram,  died  at  Vienna  almost  immediately  after  his  promo- 
tion, or  his  name  and  ability  would  sooner  or  later  have 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  217 

brought  him  the  marshal's  baton.  Under  the  Restoration 
he  would  certainly  have  repaired  the  fortunes  of  a  great  and 
noble  family  so  brilliant  even  as  far  back  as  1100,  centuries 
before  they  took  the  French  title — for  the  Rusticoli  had  given 
a  pope  to  the  church  and  twice  revolutionized  the  kingdom 
of  Naples — so  illustrious  again  under  the  Valois ;  so  dexterous 
in  the  days  of  the  Fronde,  that  obstinate  Frondeurs  though 
they  were,  they  still  existed  through  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV. 
Mazarin  favored  them;  there  was  the  Tuscan  strain  in  them 
still,  and  he  recognized  it. 

"To-day,  when  Charles  Edward  de  la  Palferine's  name  is 
mentioned,  not  three  persons  in  a  hundred  know  the  history 
of  his  house.  But  the  Bourbons  have  actually  left  a  Foix- 
Grailly  to  live  by  his  easel. 

"Ah !  if  you  but  knew  how  brilliantly  Charles  Edward  ac- 
cepts his  obscure  position !  how  he  scoffs  at  the  bourgeois  of 
1830  !  What  Attic  salt  in  his  wit !  He  would  be  the  king  of 
Bohemia,  if  Bohemia  would  endure  a  king.  His  verve  is  in- 
exhaustible. To  him  we  owe  a  map  of  the  country  and  the 
names  of  the  seven  castles  which  Nodier  could  not  discover." 

"The  one  thing  wanting  in  one  of  the  cleverest  skits  of 
our  time,"  said  the  Marquise. 

"You  can  form  your  own  opinion  of  La  Palferine  from 
a  few  characteristic  touches,"  continued  Nathan.  "He  once 
came  upon  a  friend  of  his,  a  fellow-Bohemian,  involved  in  a 
dispute  on  the  boulevard  with  a  bourgeois  who  chose  to  con- 
sider himself  affronted.  To  the  modern  powers  that  be,  Bo- 
hemia is  insolent  in  the  extreme.  There  was  talk  of  calling 
one  another  out. 

"  'One  moment/  interposed  La  Palferine,  as  much  Lauzun 
for  the  occasion  as  Lauzun  himself  could  have  been.  'One 
moment.  Monsieur  was  born,  I  suppose?' 

""What,  sir?' 

"'Yes,  are  you  born?    What  is  your  name?' 

"  'Godin." 

"'Godin,  eh!'  exclaimed  La  Palferine's  friend. 

"  'One  moment,  my  dear  fellow,'  interrupted  La  Palferine. 
'There  are  the  Trigaudins.  Are  you  one  of  them  ?' 


218  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

"Astonishment. 

"  'No  ?  Then  you  are  one  of  the  new  dukes  of  Gaeta,  I 
suppose,  of  imperial  creation?  No?  Oh,  well,  how  can  you 
expect  my  friend  to  cross  swords  with  you  when  he  will  be 
secretary  of  an  embassy  and  ambassador  some  day,  and  you 
will  owe  him  respect  ?  Go  din !  the  thing  is  non-existent !  You 
are  a  nonentity,  Godin.  My  friend  cannot  be  expected  to  beat 
the  air !  When  one  is  somebody,  one  cannot  fight  with  a  no- 
body !  'Come,  my  dear  fellow — good-day.' 

"  'My  respects  to  madame/  added  the  friend. 

"Another  day  La  Palferine  was  walking  with  a  friend  who 
flung  his  cigar  end  in  the  face  of  a  passer-by.  The  recipient 
had  the  bad  taste  to  resent  this. 

"  'You  have  stood  your  antagonist's  fire/  said  the  young 
Count,  'the  witnesses  declare  that  honor  is  satisfied/ 

"La  Palferine  owed  his  tailor  a  thousand  francs,  and  the 
man  instead  of  going  himself  sent  his  assistant  to  ask  for  the 
money.  The  assistant  found  the  unfortunate  debtor  up  six 
pairs  of  stairs  at  the  back  of  a  yard  at  the  further  end  of  the 
Faubourg  du  Eoule.  The  room  was  unfurnished  save  for  a 
bed  (such  a  bed!),  a  table,  and  such  a  table!  La  Palferine 
heard  the  preposterous  demand — 'A  demand  which  I  should 
qualify  as  illegal/  he  said  when  he  told  us  the  story,  'made,  as 
it  was,  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.' 

"  'Go/  he  answered,  with  the  gesture  and  attitude  of  a 
Mirabeau,  'tell  your  master  in  what  condition  you  find  me.' 

"The  assistant  apologized  and  withdrew.  La  Palferine, 
seeing  the  young  man  on  the  landing,  rose  in  the  attire  cele- 
brated in  verse  in  Britannicus  to  add,  'Eemark  the  stairs ! 
Pay  particular  attention  to  the  stairs;  do  not  forget  to  tell 
him  about  the  stairs !' 

"In  every  position  into  which  chance  has  thrown  La  Pal- 
ferine, he  has  never  failed  to  rise  to  the  occasion.  All  that 
he  does  is  witty  and  never  in  bad  taste;  always  and  in  every- 
thing he  displays  the  genius  of  Rivarol,  the  polished  subtlety 
of  the  old  French  noble.  It  was  he  who  told  that  delicious 
anecdote  of  a  friend  of  Laffitte  the  banker.  A  national  fund 


A  PETNCE  OF  BOHEMIA  219 

had  been  started  to  give  back  to  Laffitte  the  mansion  in  which 
the  Revolution  of  1830  was  brewed,  and  this  friend  ap- 
peared at  the  offices  of  the  fund  with,  'Here  are  five  francs, 
give  me  a  hundred  sous  change !' — A  caricature  was  made  of 
it. — It  was  once  La  Palferine's  misfortune,  in  judicial  style, 
to  make  a  young  girl  a  mother.  The  girl, not  a  very  simple  in- 
nocent, confessed  all  to  her  mother,  a  respectable  matron,  who 
hurried  forthwith  to  La  Palferine  and  asked  what  he  meant 
to  do. 

"  'Why,  madame,'  said  he,  'I  am  neither  a  surgeon  nor  a 
midwife.' 

"She  collapsed,  but  three  or  four  years  later  she  returned  to 
the  charge,  still  persisting  in  her  inquiry,  'What  did  La  Pal- 
ferine  mean  to  do?' 

"  'Well,  madame,'  returned  he,  'when  the  child  is  seve^i 
years  old,  an  age  at  which  a  boy  ought  to  pass  out  of  wo- 
men's hands' — an  indication  of  entire  agreement  on  the 
mother's  part — 'if  the  child  is  really  mine' — another  gesture 
of  assent — 'if  there  is  a  striking  likeness,  if  he  bids  fair  to 
be  a  gentleman,  if  I  can  recognize  in  him  my  turn  of  mind, 
and  more  particularly  the  Rusticoli  air;  then,  oh — ah!' — a 
new  movement  from  the  matron — 'on  my  word  and  honor,  I 
will  make  him  a  cornet  of — sugar-plums !' 

"All  this,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  make  use  of  the  phraseol- 
ogy employed  by  M.  Sainte-Beuve  for  his  biographies  of  ob- 
scurities— all  this,  I  repeat,  is  the  playful  and  sprightly  yet 
already  somewhat  decadent  side  of  a  strong  race.  It  smacks 
rather  of  the  Parc-aux-Cerfs  than  of  the  Hotel  de  Eambouillet. 
It  is  a  race  of  the  strong  rather  than  of  the  sweet;  I  incline 
to  lay  a  little  debauchery  to  its  charge,  and  more  than  I  should 
wish  in  brilliant  and  generous  natures ;  it  is  gallantry  after 
the  fashion  of  the  Marechal  de  Richelieu,  high  spirits  and 
frolic  carried  rather  too  far;  perhaps  we  may  see  in  it  the 
outrances  of  another  age,  the  Eighteenth  Century  pushed  to 
extremes;  it  harks  back  to  the  Musketeers;  it  is  an  exploit 
stolen  from  Champcenetz;  nay,  such  light-hearted  incon- 
etancy  takes  us  back  to  the  festooned  and  ornate  period  of  the 


220  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

old  court  of  the  Yalois.  In  an  age  as  moral  as  the  present, 
we  are  bound  to  regard  audacity  of  this  kind  sternly ;  still,  at 
the  same  time  that  'cornet  of  sugar-plums'  may  serve  to  warn 
young  girls  of  the  perils  of  lingering  where  fancies,  more 
charming  than  chastened,  come  thickly  from  the  first ;  on  the 
rosy  flowery  unguarded  slopes,  where  trespasses  ripen  into 
errors  full  of  equivocal  effervescence,  into  too  palpitating 
issues.  The  anecdote  puts  La  Palferine's  genius  before  you 
in  all  its  vivacity  and  completeness.  He  realizes  Pascal's 
entre-deux,  he  comprehends  the  whole  scale  between  tender- 
ness and  pitilessness,  and,  like  Epaminondas,  he  is  equally 
great  in  extremes.  And  not  merely  so,  his  epigram  stamps 
the  epoch;  the  accoucheur  is  a  modern  innovation.  All  the 
refinements  of  modern  civilization  are  summed  up  in  the 
phrase.  It  is  monumental." 

"Look  here,  my  dear  Nathan,  what  farrago  of  nonsense 
is  this?"  asked  the  Marquise  in  bewilderment. 

"Madame  la  Marquise,"  returned  Nathan,  "you  do  not 
know  the  value  of  these  'precious'  phrases;  I  am  talking 
Sainte-Beuve,  the  new  kind  of  French. — I  resume.  Walking 
one  day  arm  in  arm  with  a  friend  along  the  boulevard,  he  was 
accosted  by  a  ferocious  creditor,  who  inquired : 

"  'Are  you  thinking  of  me,  sir  ?' 

"  'Not  the  least  in  the  world,'  answered  the  Count. 

"Eemark  the  difficulty  of  the  position.  Talleyrand,  in 
similar  circumstances,  had  already  replied,  'You  are  very  in- 
quisitive, my  dear  fellow!'  To  imitate  the  inimitable  great 
man  was  out  of  the  question. — La  Palferine,  generous  as 
Buckingham,  could  not  bear  to  be  caught  empty-handed.  One 
day  when  he  had  nothing  to  give  a  little  Savoyard  chimney- 
sweeper, he  dipped  a  hand  into  a  barrel  of  grapes  in  a  grocer's 
doorway  and  filled  the  child's  cap  from  it.  The  little  one  ate 
away  at  his  grapes;  the  grocer  began  by  laughing,  and  ended 
by  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  'Oh,  fie !  monsieur/  said  La  Palferine,  'your  left  hand 
ought  not  to  know  what  my  right  hand  doth.' 

"With  his  adventurous  courage,  he  never  refuses  any  "odds, 


A  PRINCE  OP  BOHEMIA  221 

but  there  is  wit  in  his  bravado.  In  the  Passage  de  1'Opera 
he  chanced  to  meet  a  man  who  had  spoken  slightingly  of  him, 
elbowed  him  as  he  passed,  and  then  turned  and  jostled  him  a 
second  time. 

"  'You  are  very  clumsy !' 

"  'On  the  contrary ;  I  did  it  on  purpose/ 

"The  young  man  pulled  out  his  card.  La  Palferine  dropped 
it.  'It  has  been  carried  too  long  in  the  pocket.  Be  good 
enough  to  give  me  another.' 

"On  the  ground  he  received  a  thrust ;  blood  was  drawn ;  his 
antagonist  wished  to  stop. 

"  'You  are  wounded,  monsieur  I' 

"  'I  disallow  the  botte/  said  La  Palferine,  as  coolly  as  if 
he  had  been  in  the  fencing-saloon;  then  as  he  riposted  (send- 
ing the  point  home  this  time),  he  added,  'There  is  the  right 
thrust,  monsieur !' 

"His  antagonist  kept  his  bed  for  six  months. 

"This,  still  following  on  M.  Sainte-Beuve's  tracks,  recalls 
the  raffines,  the  fine-edged  raillery  of  the  best  days  of  the 
monarchy.  In  this  speech  you  discern  an  untrammeled  but 
drifting  life;  a  gaiety  of  imagination  that  deserts  us  when 
our  first  youth  is  past.  The  prime  of  the  blossom  is  over, 
but  there  remains  the  dry  compact  seed  with  the  germs  of  life 
in  it,  ready  against  the  coming  winter.  Do  you  not  see  that 
these  things  are  symptoms  of  something  unsatisfied,  of  an  un- 
rest .impossible  to  analyze,  still  less  to  describe,  yet  not  in- 
comprehensible;  a  something  ready  to  break  out  if  occasion 
calls  into  flying  upleaping  flame?  It  is  the  accidia  of  the 
cloister;  a  trace  of  sourness,  of  ferment  engendered  by  the 
enforced  stagnation  of  youthful  energies,  a,  vague,  obscure 
melancholy." 

"That  will  do,"  said  the  Marquise;  "you  are  giving  me  a 
mental  shower  bath." 

"It  is  the  early  afternoon  languor.  •  If  a  man  has  noth- 
ing to  do,  he  will  sooner  get  into  mischief  than  do  nothing  at 
all;  this  invariably  happens  in  France.  Youth  at  the  pres- 
ent day  has  two  sides  to  it;  the  studious  or  unappreciated, 
and  the  ardent  or  passionne" 


222  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

"That  will  do !"  repeated  Mme.  de  Rochefide,  with,  an  au- 
thoritative gesture.  "You  are  setting  my  nerves  on  edge." 

"To  finish  my  portrait  of  La  Palferine,  I  hasten  to  make 
the  plunge  into  the  gallant  regions  of  his  character,  or  you 
will  not  understand  the  peculiar  genius  of  an  admirable  rep- 
resentative of  a  certain  section  of  mischievous  youth — youth 
strong  enough,  be  it  said,  to  laugh  at  the  position  in  which 
it  is  put  by  those  in  power;  shrewd  enough  to  do  no  work, 
since  work  profiteth  nothing,  yet  so  full  of  life  that  it  fastens 
upon  pleasure — the  one  thing  that  cannot  be  taken  away. 
And  meanwhile  a  bourgeois,  mercantile,  and  bigoted  policy 
continues  to  cut  off  all  the  sluices  through  which  so  much 
aptitude  and  ability  would  find  an  outlet.  Poets  and  men 
of  science  are  not  wanted. 

"To  give  you  an  idea  of  the  stupidity  of  the  new  court,  I 
will  tell  you  of  something  which  happened  to  La  Palferine. 
There  is  a  sort  of  relieving  officer  on  the  civil  list.  This  func- 
tionary one  day  discovered  that  La  Palferine  was  in  dire  dis- 
tress, drew  up  a  report,  no  doubt,  and  brought  the  descendant 
of  the  Rusticolis  fifty  francs  by  way  of  alms.  La  Palferine 
received  the  visitor  with  perfect  courtesy,  and  talked  of 
various  persons  at  court. 

"'Is  it  true,'  he  asked,  'that  Mile.  d'Orleans  contributes 
such  and  such  a  sum  to  this  benevolent  scheme  started  by  her 
nephew?  If  so,  it  is  very  gracious  of  her.' 

"JSTow  La  Palferine  had  a  servant,  a  little  Savoyard,  .aged 
ten,  who  waited  on  him  without  wages.  La  Palferine  called 
him  Father  Anchises,  and  used  to  say,  'I  have  never  seen  such 
a  mixture  of  besotted  foolishness  with  great  intelligence;  he 
would  go  through  fire  and  water  for  me;  he  understands 
everything — and  yet  he  cannot  grasp  the  fact  that  I  can  do 
nothing  for  him.' 

"Anchises  was  despatched  to  a  livery  stable  with  instruc- 
tions to  hire  a  handsome  brougham  with  a  man  in  livery  be- 
hind it.  By  the  time  the  carriage  arrived  below,  La  Palferine 
had  skilfully  piloted  the  conversation  to  the  subject  of  the 
functions  of  his  visitor,  whom  he  has  since  called  'the  un- 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  223 

mitigated  misery  man/  and  learned  the  nature  of  his  duties 
and  his  stipend. 

"  'Do  they  allow  you  a  carriage  to  go  about  the  town  in  this 
way?' 

"'Oh!  no.' 

"At  that  La  Palferine  and  a  friend  who  happened  to  be 
with  him  went  downstairs  with  the  poor  soul,  and  insisted 
on  putting  him  into  the  carriage.  It  was  raining  in  torrents. 
La  Palferine  had  thought  of  everything.  He  offered  to  drive 
the  official  to  the  next  house  on  his  list ;  and  when  the  almoner 
came  down  again,  he  found  the  carriage  waiting  for  him  at 
the  door.  The  man  in  livery  handed  him  a  note  written  in 
pencil : 

"  'The  carriage  has  been  engaged  for  thrse  days.  Count 
Rusticoli  de  la  Palferine  is  too  happy  to  associate  himself 
with  Court  charities  by  lending  wings  to  Royal  beneficence.' 

"La  Palferine  now  calls  the  civil  list  the  uncivil' list. 

"He  was  once  passionately  loved  by  a  lady  of  somewhat  light 
conduct.  Antonia  lived  in  the  Rue  du  Helder;  she  had  seen 
and  been  seen  to  some  extent,  but  at  the  time  of  her  ac- 
quaintance with  La  Palferine  she  had  not  yet  fan  establish- 
ment.' Antonia  was  not  wanting  in  the  insolence  of  old 
days,  now  degenerating  into  rudeness  among  women  of  her 
class.  After  a  fortnight  of  unmixed  bliss,  she  was  compelled, 
in  the  interest  of  her  civil  list,  to  return  to  a  less  exclusive 
system;  and  La  Palferine,  discovering  a  certain  lack  of  sin- 
cerity in  her  dealings  with  him,  sent  Madame  Antonia  a  note 
which  made  her  famous. 

"'MADAME, — Your  conduct  causes  me  much  surprise  and 
no  less  distress.  Not  content  with  rending  my  heart  with 
your  disdain,  you  have  been  so  little  thoughtful  as  to  retain 
a  toothbrush,  which  my  means  will  not  permit  me  to  replace, 
my  estates  being  mortgaged  beyond -their  value. 

"  'Adieu,  too  fair  and  too  ungrateful  friend !  May  we  meet 
again  in  a  better  world. 

"'CHABLES  EDWARD/ 


224  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

"Assuredly  (to  avail  ourselves  yet  further  of  Sainte-Beuve'b 
Babylonish  dialect),  this  far  outpasses  the  raillery  of  Sterne's 
Sentimental  Journey;  it  might  be  Scarron  without  his  gross- 
ness.  Nay,  I  do  not  know  but  that  Moliere  in  his  lighter 
mood  would  not  have  said  of  it,  as  of  Cyrano  de  Bergerac's 
best — 'This  is  mine.'  Richelieu  himself  was  not  more  com- 
plete when  he  wrote  to  the  princess  waiting  for  him  in  the 
Palais  Eoyal — 'Stay  there,  my  queen,  to  charm  the  scullion 
lads.'  At  the  same  time,  Charles  Edward's  humor  is  less 
biting.  I  am  not  sure  that  this  kind  of  wit  was  known 
among  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  Plato,  possibly,  upon  a 
closer  inspection  approaches  it,  but  from  the  austere  and 
musical  side — 

"No  more  of  that  jargon,"  the  Marquise  broke  in,  "in  print 
it  may  be  endurable;  but  to  have  it  grating  upon  my  ears  is 
a  punishment  which  I  do  not  in  the  least  deserve." 

"He  first  met  Claudine  on  this  wise,"  continued  Nathan. 
"It  was  one  of  the  unfilled  days,  when  Youth  is  a  burden  to 
itself ;  days  when  youth,  reduced  by  the  overweening  presump- 
tion of  Age  to  a  condition  of  potential  energy  and  dejection, 
emerges  therefrom  (like  Blondet  under  the  Restoration), 
either  to  get  into  mischief  or  to  set  about  some  colossal  piece 
of  buffoonery,  half  excused  by  the  very  audacity  of  its  concep- 
tion. La  Palferine  was  sauntering,  cane  in  hand,  up  and 
down  the  pavement  between  the  Rue  de  Grammont  and  the 
Rue  de  Richelieu,  when  in  the  distance  he  descried  a  woman 
too  elegantly  dressed,  covered,  as  he  phrased  it,  with  a  great 
deal  of  portable  property,  too  expensive  and  too  carelessly 
worn  for  its  owner  to  be  other  than  a  princess  of  the  Court 
or  of  the  stage,  it  was  not  easy  at  first  to  say  which.  But 
after  July  1830,  in  his  opinion,  there  is  no  mistaking  the  in- 
dications— the  princess  can  only  be  a  princess  of  the  stage. 

"The  Count  came  up  and  walked  by  her  side  as  if  she  had 
given  him  an  assignation.  He  followed  her  with  a  courteous 
persistence,  a  persistence  in  good -taste,  giving  the  lady  from 
time  to  time,  and  always  at  the  right  moment,  an  authorita- 
tive glance,  which  compelled  her  to  submit  to  his  escort.  Any- 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  225 

body  but  La  Palferine  would  have  been  frozen  by  his  recep- 
tion, and  disconcerted  by  the  lady's  first  efforts  to  rid  herself 
of  her  cavalier,  by  her  chilly  air,  her  curt  speeches;  but  no 
gravity,  with  all  the  will  in  the  world,  could  hold  out  long 
against  La  Palferine' s  jesting  replies.  The  fair  stranger  went 
into  her  milliner's  shop.  Charles  Edward  followed,  took  a 
seat,  and  gave  his  opinions  and  advice  like  a  man  that  meant 
to  pay.  This  coolness  disturbed  the  lady.  She  went  out. 

"On  the  stairs  she  spoke  to  her  persecutor. 

"  'Monsieur,  I  am  about  to  call  upon  one  of  my  hus- 
band's relatives,  an  elderly  lady,  Mme.  de  Bonfalot ' 

"  'Ah !  Mme.  de  Bonfalot,  charmed,  I  am  sure.  I  am  going 
there.' 

"The  pair  accordingly  went.  Charles  Edward  came  in 
with  the  lady,  every  one  believed  that  she  had  brought  him 
with  her.  He  took  part  in  the  conversation,  was  lavish  of 
his  polished  and  brilliant  wit.  The  visit  lengthened  out.  That 
was  not  what  he  wanted. 

"  'Madame,'  he  said,  addressing  the  fair  stranger,  'do  not 
forget  that  your  husband  is  waiting  for  us,  and  only  allowed 
us  a  quarter  of  an  hour.' 

"Taken  aback  by  such  boldness  (which,  as  you  know,  is 
never  displeasing  to  you  women),  led  captive  by  the  con- 
queror's glance,  by  the  astute  yet  candid  air  which  Charles 
Edward  can  assume  when  he  chooses,  the  lady  rose,  took  the 
arm  of  her  self-constituted  escort,  and  went  downstairs,  but 
on  the  threshold  she  stopped  to  speak  to  him. 

"  'Monsieur,  I  like  a  joke ' 

"  'And  so  do  I.' 

"She  laughed. 

"  'But  this  may  turn  to  earnest,'  he  added ;  'it  only  rests 
with  you.  I  am  the  Comte  de  la  Palferine,  and  I  am  delighted 
that  it  is  in  my  power  to  lay  my  heart  and  my  fortune  at 
your  feet.' 

"La  Palferine  was  at  that  time  twenty-two  years  old. 
(This  happened  in  1834.)  Luckily  for  him,  he  was  fashion- 
ably dressed.  I  can  paint  his  portrait  for  you  in  a  few  words. 


226  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

He  was  the  living  image  of  Louis  XIII.,  with  the  same  white 
forehead  and  gracious  outline  of  the  temples,  the  same  olive 
skin  (that  Italian  olive  tint  which  turns  white  where  the 
light  falls  on  it),  the  brown  hair  worn  rather  long,  the 
black  'royale/  the  grave  and  melancholy  expression,  for  La 
Palferine's  character  and  exterior  were  amazingly  at  variance. 

"At  the  sound  of  the  name,  and  the  sight  of  its  owner, 
something  like  a  quiver  thrilled  through  Claudine.  La  Pal- 
ferine  saw  the  vibration,  and  shot  a  glance  at  her  out  of  the 
dark  depths  of  almond-sKaped  eyes  with  purpled  lids,  and 
those  faint  lines  about  them  which  tell  of  pleasures  as  costly 
as  painful  fatigue.  With  those  eyes  upon  her,  she  said — 
'Your  address  ?' 

"  'What  want  of  address !' 

"  'Oh,  pshaw !'  she  said,  smiling.     'A  bird  on  the  bough  ?' 

"  'Good-bye,  madame,  you  are  such  a  woman  as  I  seek, 
but  my  fortune  is  far  from  equaling  my  desire ' 

"He  bowed,  and  there  and  then  left  her.  Two  days  later, 
by  one  of  the  strange  chances  that  can  only  happen  in  Paris, 
he  had  betaken  himself  to  a  money-lending  wardrobe  dealer 
to  sell  such  of  his  clothing  as  he  could  spare.  He  was  just  re- 
ceiving the  price  with  an  uneasy  air,  after  long  chaffering, 
when  the  stranger  lady  passed  and  recognized  him. 

"  'Once  for  all/  cried  he  to  the  bewildered  wardrobe  dealer, 
'I  tell  you  I  am  not  going  to  take  your  trumpet !' 

"He  pointed  to  a  huge,  much-dinted  musical  instrument, 
hanging  up  outside  against  a  background  of  uniforms,  civil 
and  military.  Then,  proudly  and  impetuously,  he  followed 
the  lady. 

"From  that  great  day  of  the  trumpet  these  two  understood 
one  another  to  admiration.  Charles  Edward's  ideas  on  the 
subject  of  love  are  as  sound  as  possible.  According  to  him, 
a  man  cannot  love  twice,  there  is  but  one  love  in  his  life- 
time, but  that  love  is  a  deep  and  shoreless  sea.  It  may  break 
in  upon  him  at  any  time,  as  the  grace  of  God  found  St.  Paul ; 
and  a  man  may  live  sixty  years  and  never  know  love.  Per- 
haps, to  quote  Heine's  superb  phrase,  it  is  'the  secret  malady 


A  PRIXCE  OF  BOHEMIA  227 

of  the  heart' — a  sense  of  the  Infinite  that  there  is  within  us, 
together  with  the  revelation  of  the  ideal  Beauty  in  its  visible 
form.  This  love,  in  short,  comprehends  both  the  creature  and 
creation.  But  so  long  as  there  is  no  question  of  this  great 
poetical  conception,  the  loves  that  cannot  last  can  only  be 
taken  lightly,  as  if  they  were  in  a  manner  snatches  of  song 
compared  with  Love  the  epic. 

"To  Charles  Edward  the  adventure  brought  neither  the 
thunderbolt  signal  of  love's  coming,  nor  yet  that  gradual 
revelation  of  an  inward  fairness  which  draws  two  natures 
by  degrees  more  and  more  strongly  each  to  each.  For  there 
are  but  two  ways  of  love — love  at  first  sight,  doubtless  akin 
to  the  Highland  'second-sight,'  and  that  slow  fusion  of  two 
natures  which  realizes  Plato's  'man-woman.'  But  if  Charles 
Edward  did  not  love,  he  was  loved  to  distraction.  Claudine 
found  love  made  complete,  body  and  soul;  in  her,  in  short, 
La  Palf  erine  awakened  the  one  passion  of  her  life ;  while  for 
him  Claudine  was  only  a  most  charming  mistress.  The  Devil 
himself,  a  most  potent  magician  certainly,  with  all  hell  at 
his  back,  could  never  have  changed  the  natures  of  these  two 
unequal  fires.  I  dare  affirm  that  Claudine  not  unfrequently 
bored  Charles  Edward. 

"  'Stale  fish  and  the  woman  you  do  not  love  are  only  fit  to 
fling  out  of  the  window  after  three  days/  he  used  to  say. 

"In  Bohemia  there  is  little  secrecy  observed  over  these  af- 
fairs. La  Palferine  used  to  talk  a  good  deal  of  Claudine; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  none  of  us  saw  her,  nor  so  much  as 
knew  her  name.  For  us  Claudine  was  almost  a  mythical  per- 
sonage. All  of  us  acted  in  the  same  way,  reconciling  the  re- 
quirements of  our  common  life  with  the  rules  of  good  taste. 
Claudine,  Hortense,  the  Baroness,  the  Bourgeoise,  the  Em- 
press, the  Spaniard,  the  Lioness, — these  were  cryptic 
titles  which  permitted  us  to  pour  out  our  joys,  our  cares,  vexa- 
tions, and  hopes,  and  to  communicate  our  discoveries.  Fur- 
ther, none  of  us  went.  It  has  been  known,  in  Bohemia,  that 
chance  discovered  the  identity  of  the  fair  unknown ;  and  at 
once,  as  by  tacit  convention,  not  one  of  us  spoke  of  her  again. 
VOL.  16 — 46 


228  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

This  fact  may  show  how  far  youth  possesses  a  sense  of  true 
delicacy.  How  admirably  certain  natures  of  a  finer  clay  know 
the  limit  line  where  jest  must  end,  and  all  that  host  of  things 
French  covered  by  the  slang  word  blague,  a  word  which  will 
shortly  be  cast  out  of  the  language  (let  us  hope),  and  yet  it 
is  the  only  one  which  conveys  an  idea  of  the  spirit  of  Bo- 
Hernia. 

"So  we  often  used  to  joke  about  Claudine  and  the  Count 
— 'Toujours  Claudine  ?'  sung  to  the  air  of  Toujours  Oessler. 
— 'What  are  you  making  of  Claudine?' — 'How  is  Claudine?' 

"  'I  wish  you  all  such  a  mistress,  for  all  the  harm  I  wish 
you,'  La  Palferine  began  one  day.  'Xo  greyhound,  no  basset- 
dog,  no  poodle  can  match  her  in  gentleness,  submissiveness, 
and  complete  tenderness.  There  are  times  when  I  reproach 
myself,  when  I  take  myself  to  task  for  my  hard  heart. 
Claudine  obeys  with  saintly  sweetness.  She  comes  to  me, 
I  tell  her  to  go,  she  goes,  she  does  not  even  cry  till  she  is  out 
in  the  courtyard.  I  refuse  to  see  her  for  a  whole  week  at  a 
time.  I  tell  her  to  come  at  such  an  hour  on  Tuesday;  and 
be  it  midnight  or  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  ten  o'clock,  five 
o'clock,  breakfast  time,  dinner  time,  bed  time,  any  particu- 
larly inconvenient  hour  in  the  day — she  will  come,  punctual 
to  the  minute,  beautiful,  beautifully  dressed,  and  enchanting. 
And  she  is  a  married  woman,  with  all  the  complications  and 
duties  of  a  household:  The  fibs  that  she  must  invent,  the  rea- 
sons she  must  find  for  conforming  to  my  whims  would  tax 
the  ingenuity  of  some  of  us!  .  .  .  Claudine  never 
wearies;  you  can  always  count  upon  her.  It  is  not  love,  I 
tell  her,  it  is  infatuation.  She  writes  to  me  every  day;  I  do 
not  read  her  letters;  she  found  that  out,  but  still  she  writes. 
See  here;  there  are  two  hundred  letters  in  this  casket.  She 
begs  me  to  wipe  my  razors  on  one  of  her  letters  every  day, 
and  I  punctually  do  so.  She  thinks,  and  rightly,  that  the 
sight  of  her  handwriting  will  put  me  in  mind  of  her.' 

"La  Palferine  was  dressing  as  he  told  us  this.  I  took  up  the 
letter  which  he  was  about  to  put  to  this  use,  read  it,  and  kept 
it,  as  he  did  not  ask  to  have  it  back.  Here  it  is.  I  looked 
for  it,  and  found  it  as  I  promised. 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  229 

"  Monday  (Midnight). 

"'Well,  my  dear,  are  you  satisfied  with  me?  I  did  not 
even  ask  for  your  hand,  yet  you  might  easily  have  given  it 
to  me,  and  I  longed  so  much  to  hold  it  to  my  heart,  to  my 
lips.  No,  I  did  not  ask,  I  am  so  afraid  of  displeasing  you. 
Do  you  know  one  thing  ?  Though  I  am  cruelly  sure  that  any- 
thing I  do  is  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference  to  you,  I  am 
none  the  less  extremely  timid  in  my  conduct :  the  woman 
that  belongs  to  you,  whatever  her  title  to  call  herself  yours, 
must  not  incur  so  much  as  the  shadow  of  blame.  In  so  far 
as  love  comes  from  the  angels  in  heaven,  from  whom  there 
are  no  secrets  hid,  my  love  is  as  pure  as  the  purest ;  wherever 
I  am  I  feel  that  I  am  in  your  presence,  and  I  try  to  do  you 
honor. 

"  'All  that  you  said  about  my  manner  of  dress  impressed 
me  very  much;  I  began  to  understand  how  far  above  others 
are  those  that  come  of  a  noble  race.  There  was  still  some- 
thing of  the  opera  girl  in  my  gowns,  in  my  way  of  dressing 
my  hair.  In  a  moment  I  saw  the  distance  between  me  and 
good  taste.  Next  time  you  shall  receive  a  duchess,  you  shall 
not  know  me  again !  Ah !  ho\\  good  you  have  been  to  your 
Claudine !  How  many  and  many  a  time  I  have  thanked  you 
for  telling  me  those  things !  What  interest  lay  in  those  few 
words!  You  had  taken  thought  for  that  thing  belonging  to 
you  called  Claudine?  This  imbecile  would  never  have  opened 
my  eyes;  he  thinks  that  everything  I  do  is  right;  and  besides, 
he  is  much  too  humdrum,  too  matter-of-fact  to  have  any  feel- 
ing for  the  beautiful. 

"  'Tuesday  is  very  slow  of  coming  for  my  impatient  mind ! 
On  Tuesday  I  shall  be  with  you  for  several  hours.  Ah !  when 
it  comes  I  will  try  to  think  that  the  hours  are  months,  that  it 
will  be  so  always.  I  am  living  in  hope  of  that  morning  now, 
as  I  shall  live  upon  the  memory  of  it  afterwards.  Hope  is 
memory  that  craves;  and  recollection,  memory  sated.  What  a 
beautiful  life  within  life  thought  makes  for  us  in  this  way  ! 

"  'Sometimes  I  dream  of  inventing  new  ways  of  tenderness 
all  my  own,  a  secret  which  no  other  woman  shall  guess.  A 


230  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

cold  sweat  breaks  out  over  me  at  the  thought  that  something 
may  happen  to  prevent  this  meeting.  Oh,  I  would  break 
with  him  for  good,  if  need  was,  but  nothing  here  could  pos- 
sibly interfere;  it  would  be  from  your  side.  Perhaps  you  may 
decide  to  go  out,  perhaps  to  go  to  see  some  other  woman. 
Oh !  spare  me  this  Tuesday  for  pity's  sake.  If  you  take  it 
from  me,  Charles,  you  do  not  know  what  he  will  suffer;  I 
should  drive  him  wild.  But  even  if  you  do  not  want  me,  if 
you  are  going  out,  let  me  come,  all  the  same,  to  be  with  you 
while  you  dress ;  only  to  see  you,  I  ask  no  more  than  that ; 
only  to  show  you  that  I  love  you  without  a  thought  of  self. 

"  'Since  you  gave  me  leave  to  love  you,  for  you  gave  me 
leave,  since  I  am  yours;  since  that  day  I  loved  and  love  you 
with  the  whole  strength  _of  my  soul ;  and  I  shall  love  you  for 
ever,  for  once  having  loved  you,  no  one  could,  no  one  ought 
to  love  another.  And,  you  see,  when  those  eyes  that  ask 
nothing  but  to  see  you  are  upon  you,  you  will  feel  that  in 
your  Claudine  there  is  a  something  divine,  called  into  exist- 
ence by  you. 

"  'Alas !  with  you  I  can  never  play  the  coquette.  I  am  like 
a  mother  with  her  child;  I  endure  anything  from  you;  I, 
that  was  once  so  imperious 'and  proud.  I  have  made  dukes 
and  princes  fetch  and  carry  for  me;  aides-de-camp,  worth 
more  than  all  the  court  of  Charles  X.  put  together,  have  done 
my  errands,  yet  I  am  treating  you  as  my  spoilt  child.  But 
where  is  the  use  of  coquetry?  It  would  be  pure  waste.  And 
yet,  monsieur,  for  want  of  coquetry  I  shall  never  inspire  love 
in  you.  I  know  it;  I  feel  it;  yet  I  do  as  before,  feeling  a 
power  that  I  cannot  withstand,  thinking  that  this  utter  self- 
surrender  will  win  me  the  sentiment  innate  in  all  men  (so 
he  tells  me)  for  the  thing  that  belongs  to  them. 

•'  Wednesday. 

"  'Ah !  how  darkly  sadness  entered  my  heart  yesterday 
when  I  found  that  I  must  give  up  the  joy  of  seeing  you.  One 
single  thought  held  me  back  from  the  arms  of  Death  ! — It  was 
thy  will !  To  stay  away  was  to  do  thy  will,  to  obey  an  order 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  231 

from  thee.  Oh !  Charles,  I  was  so  pretty ;  I  looked  a  lovelier 
woman  for  you  than  that  beautiful  German  princess  whom 
you  gave  me  for  an  example, whom  I  have  studied  at  the  Opera. 
And  yet — you  might  have  thought  that  I  had  overstepped 
the  limits  of  my  nature.  You  have  left  me  no  confidence 
in  myself ;  perhaps  I  am  plain  after  all.  Oh !  I  loathe  myself, 
I  dream  of  my  radiant  Charles  Edward,  and  my  brain  turns. 
I  shall  go  mad,  I  know  I  shall.  Do  not  laugh,  do  not  talk 
to  me  of  the  fickleness  of  women.  If  we  are  inconstant,  you 
are  strangely  capricious.  You  take  away  the  hours  of  love 
that  made  a  poor  creature's  happiness  for  ten  whole  days; 
the  hours  on  which  she  drew  to  be  charming  and  kind  to  all 
that  came  to  see  her !  After  all,  you  were  the  source  of  my 
kindness  to  him;  you  do  not  know  what  pain  you  give  him. 
I  wonder  what  I  must  do  to  keep  you,  or  simply  to  keep  the 
right  to  be  yours  sometimes.  .  .  .  When  I  think  that  you 
never  would  come  here  to  me !  .  .  .  With  what  delicious 
emotion  I  would  wait  upon  you ! — There  are  other  women 
more  favored  than  I.  There  are  women  to  whom  you  say, 
'I  love  you/  To  me  you  have  never  said  more  than  'You  are  a 
good  girl/  Certain  speeches  of  yours,  though  you  do  not 
know  it,  gnaw  at  my  heart.  Clever  men  sometimes  ask  me 
what  I  am  thinking.  ...  I  am  thinking  of  my  self- 
abasement — the  prostration  of  the  poorest  outcast  in  the 
presence  of  the  Saviour.' 

"There  are  still  three  more  pages,  you  see.  La  Pal- 
ferine  allowed  me  to  take  the  letter,  with  the  traces  of  tears 
that  still  seemed  hot  upon  it !  Here  was  proof  of  the  truth  of 
his  story.  Marcas,  a  shy  man  enough  with  women,  was  in 
ecstacies  over  a  second  which  he  read  in  his  corner  before 
lighting  his  pipe  with  it.  . 

"  'Why,  any  woman  in  love  will  write  that  sort  of  thing !' 
cried  La  Palferine.  'Love  gives  all  women  intelligence  and 
style,  which  proves  that  here  in  France  style  proceeds  from 
the  matter  and  not  from  the  words.  See  now  how  well  this  is 
thought  out,  how  clear-headed  sentiment  is' — and  with  that 


232  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

he  reads  us  another  letter,  far  superior  to  the  artificial  and 
labored  productions  which  we  novelists  write. 

"One  day  poor  Claudine  heard  that  La  Palferine  was  in  a 
critical  position;  it  was  a  question  of  meeting  a  bill  of  ex- 
change. An  unlucky  idea  occurred  to  her ;  she  put  a  tolerably 
large  sum  in  gold  into  an  exquisitely  embroidered  purse  and 
went  to  him. 

"  'Who  has  taught  you  to  be  so  bold  as  to  meddle  with  my 
household  affairs?'  La  Palferine  cried  angrily.  'Mend  my 

socks  and  work  slippers  for  me,  if  it  amuses  you.  So ! 

you  will  play  the  duchess,  and  you  turn  the  story  of  Danae 
against  the  aristocracy.' 

"He  emptied  the  purse  into  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  made 
as  though  he  would  fling  the  money  in  her  face.  Claudine, 
in  her  terror,  did  not  guess  that  he  was  joking;  she  shrank 
back,  stumbled  over  a  chair,  and  fell  with  her  head  against 
the  corner  of  the  marble  chimney-piece.  She  thought  she 
should  have  died.  When  she  could  speak,  poor  woman,  as 
she  lay  on  the  bed,  all  that  she  said  was,  'I  deserved  it, 
Charles !' 

"For  a  moment  La  Palferine  was  in  despair;  his  anguish 
revived  Claudine.  She  rejoiced  in  the  mishap;  she  took  ad- 
vantage of  her  suffering  to  compel  La  Palferine  to  take  the 
money  and  release  him  from  an  awkward  position.  Then 
followed  a  variation  on  La  Fontaine's  fable,  in  which  a  man 
blesses  the  thieves  that  brought  him  a  sudden  impulse  of 
tenderness  from  his  wife.  And  while  we  are  upon  this  sub- 
ject, another  saying  will  paint  the  man  for  you. 

"Claudine  went  home  again,  made  up  some  kind  of  tale  as 
best  she  could  to  account  for  her  bruised  forehead,  and  fell 
dangerously  ill.  .An  abscess  formed  in  the  head.  The  doctor 
— Bianchon,  I  believed—yes,  it  was  Bianchon — wanted  to  cut 
off  her  hair.  The  Duchesse  de  Berri's  hair  is  not  more  beauti- 
ful than  Claudine's;  she  would  not  hear  of  it,  she  told  Bian- 
chon in  confidence  that  she  could  not  allow  it  to  be  cut  with- 
out leave  from  the  Comte  de  Palferine.  Bianchon  went  to 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  233 

Charles  Edward.  Charles  Edward  heard'  him  with  much 
seriousness.  The  doctor  had  explained  the  case  at  length, 
and  showed  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  sacrifice  the 
hair  to  insure  the  success  of  the  operation. 

"  'Cut  off  Claudine's  hair !'  cried  he  in  peremptory  tones. 
'No.  I  would  sooner  lose  her.'  r 

"Even  now,  after  a  lapse  of  four  years,  Bianchon  still 
quotes  that  speech ;  we  have  laughed  over  it  for  half  an  hour 
together.  Claudine,  informed  of  the  verdict,  saw  in  it  a 
proof  of  affection ;  she  felt  sure  that  she  was  loved.  In  the 
face  of  her  weeping  family,  with  her  husband  on  his  knees, 
she  was  inexorable.  She  kept  her  hair.  The  strength  that 
came  with  the  belief  that  she  was  loved  came  to  her  aid,  the 
operation  succeeded  perfectly.  There  are  stirrings  of  the 
inner  life  which  throw  all  the  calculations  of  surgery  into 
disorder  and  baffle  the  laws  of  medical  science. 

"Claudine  wrote  a  delicious  letter  to  La  Palferine,  a  letter 
in  which  the  orthography  was  doubtful  and  the  punctuation 
all  to  seek,  to  tell  him  of  the  happy  result  of  the  operation, 
and  to  add  that  Love  was  wiser  than  all  the  sciences. 

"  'Now/  said  La  Palferine  one  day,  'what  am  I  to  do  to  get 
rid  of  Claudine?' 

"  'Why,  she  is  not  at  all  troublesome ;  she  leaves  you  master 
of  your  actions,'  objected  we. 

"  'That  is  true,'  returned  La  Palferine,  'but  I  do  not  choose 
that  anything  shall  slip  into  my  life  without  my  consent.' 

"From  that  day  he  set  himself  to  torment  Claudine.  It 
seemed  that  he  held  the  bourgeoise,  the  nobody,  in  utter 
horror;  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  a  woman  with  a  title. 
Claudine,  it  was  true,  had  made  progress;  she  had  learned  to 
dress  as  well  as  the  best-dressed  women  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Germain;  she  had  freed  her  bearing  of  unhallowed 
traces ;  she  walked  with  a  chastened,  inimitable  grace ;  but  this 
was  not  enough.  This  praise  of  her  enabled  Claudine  to  swal- 
low down  the  rest. 

"But  one  day  La  Palferine  said,  'If  you  wish  to  be  the  mis- 
tress of  one  La  Palferine,  poor,  penniless,  and  without  pros- 


234  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

pects  as  he  is,  you  ought  at  least  to  represent  him  worthily. 
You  should  have  a  carriage  and  liveried  servants  and  a  title. 
Give  me  all  the  gratifications  of  vanity  that  will  never  be 
mine  in  my  own  person.  The  woman  whom  I  honor  with  my 
regard  ought  never  to  go  on  foot;  if  she  is  bespattered  with 
mud,  I  suffer.  That  is  how  I  am  made.  If  she  is  mine,  she 
must  be  admired  of  all  Paris.  All  Paris  shall  envy  me  my 
good  fortune.  If  some  little  whipper-snapper  seeing  a 
brilliant  countess  pass  in  her  brilliant  carriage  shall  say  to 
himself,  "Who  can  call  such  a  divinity  his?"  and  grow 
thoughtful — why,  it  will  double  my  pleasure.' 

"La  Palferine  owned  to  us  that  he  flung  this  programme 
at  Claudine's  head  simply  to  rid  himself  of  her.  As  a  result 
he  was  stupefied  with  astonishment  for  the  first  and  probably 
the  only  time  in  his  life. 

"  'Dear,'  she  said,  and  there  was  a  ring  in  her  voice  that 
betrayed  the  great  agitation  which  shook  her  whole  being, 
'it  is  well.  All  this  shall  be  done,  or  I  will  die.' 

"She  let  fall  a  few  happy  tears  on  his  hand  as  she  kissed  it. 

"  'You  have  told  me  what  I  must  do  to  be  your  mistress 
still,'  she  added ;  'I  am  glad.' 

"  'And  then'  (La  Palferine  told  us)  'she  went  out  with  a 
little  coquettish  gesture  like  a  woman  that  has  had  her  way. 
As  she  stood  in  my  garret  doorway,  tall  and  proud,  she 
seemed  to  reach  the  stature  of  an  antique  sibyl.' 

"All  this  should  sufficiently  explain  the  manners  and  cus- 
toms of  the  Bohemia  in  which  the  young  condottiere  is  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  figures,"  Nathan  continued  after  a 
pause.  "Now  it  so  happened  that  I  discovered  Claudine's 
identity,  and  could  understand  the  appalling  truth  of  one 
line  which  you  perhaps  overlooked  in  that  letter  of  hers.  It 
was  on  this  wise." 

The  Marquise,  too  thoughtful  now  for  laughter,  bade  Na- 
than "Go  on,"  in  a  tone  that  told  him  plainly  how  deeply 
she  had  been  impressed  by  these  strange  things,  and  even 
more  plainly  how  much  she  was  interested  in  La  Palferine. 

"In  1829,  one  of  the  most  influential,  steady,  and  clever  of 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  235 

dramatic  writers  was  du  Bruel.  His  real  name  is  unknown  to 
the  public,  on  the  play-bills  he  is  de  Cursy.  Under  the  Resto- 
ration he  had  a  place  in  the  Civil  Service;  and  being  really 
attached  to  the  elder  branch,  he  sent  in  his  resignation 
bravely  in  1830,  and  ever  since  has  written  twice  as  many 
plays  to  fill  the  deficit  in  his  budget  made  by  his  noble  con- 
duct. At  that  time  du  Bruel  was  forty  years  old;  you  know 
the  story  of  his  life.  Like  many  of  his  brethren,  he  bore  a 
stage  dancer  an  affection  hard  to  explain,  but  well  known  in 
the  whole  world  of  letters.  The  woman,  as  you  know,  was 
Tullia,  one  of  the  premiers  sujets  of  the  Academic  Royale  de 
Musique.  Tullia  is  merely  a  pseudonym  like  du  Bruel's  name 
of  de  Cursy. 

"For  the  ten  years  between  1817  and  1827  Tullia  was  in 
her  glory  on  the  heights  of  the  stage  of  the  Opera.  With  more 
beauty  than  education,  a  mediocre  dancer  with  rather  more 
sense  than  most  of  her  class,  she  took  no  part  in  the  virtuous 
reforms  which  ruined  the  corps  de  ballet;  she  continued  the 
Guimard  dynasty.  She  owed  her  ascendency,  moreover,  to 
various  well-known  protectors,  to  the  Due  de  Rhetore  (the 
Due  de  Chaulieu's  eldest  son),  to  the  influence  of  a  famous 
Superintendent  of  Fine  Arts,  and  sundry  diplomatists  and 
rich  foreigners.  During  her  apogee  she  had  a  neat  little  house 
in  the  Rue  Chauchat,  and  lived  as  Opera  nymphs  used  to  live 
in  the  old  days.  Du  Bruel  was  smitten  with  her  about  the 
time  when  the  Duke's  fancy  came  to  an  end  in  1823.  Being 
a  mere  subordinate  in  the-  Civil  Service,  du  Bruel  tolerated 
the  Superintendent  of  Fine  Arts,  believing  that  he  himself 
was  really  preferred.  After  six  years  this  connection  was 
almost  a  marriage.  Tullia  has  always  been  very  careful  to 
say  nothing  of  her  family;  we  have  a  vague  idea  that  she 
comes  from  Nanterre.  One  of  her  uncles,  formerly  a  simple 
bricklayer  or  carpenter,  is  now,  it  is  said,  a  very  rich  con- 
tractor, thanks  to  her  influence  and  generous  loans.  This 
fact  leaked  out  through  du  Bruel.  He  happened  to  say  that 
Tullia  would  inherit  a  fine  fortune  sooner  or  later.  The  con- 
tractor was  a  bachelor;  he  had  a  weakness  for  the  niece  to 
whom  he  is  indebted. 


236  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

"  'He  is  not  clever  enough  to  be  ungrateful,'  said  she. 

"In  1829  Tullia  retired  from  the  stage  of  her  own  accord. 
At  the  age  of  thirty  she  saw  that  she  was  growing  somewhat 
stouter,  and  she  had  tried  pantomime  without  success.  Her 
whole  art  consisted  in  the  trick  of  raising  her  skirts,  after 
Noblet's  manner,  in  a  pirouette  which  inflated  them  balloon- 
fashion  and  exhibited  the  smallest  possible  quantity  of  cloth- 
ing to  the  pit.  The  aged  Vestris  had  told  her  at  the  very  be- 
ginning that  this  temps,  well  executed  by  a  fine  woman,  is 
worth  all  the  art  imaginable.  It  is  the  chest-note  C  of 
dancing.  For  which  reason,  he  said,  the  very  greatest 
dancers — Camargo,  Guimard,  and  Taglioni,  all  of  them 
thin,  brown,  and  plain — could  only  redeem  their  physi- 
cal defects  by  their  genius.  Tullia,  still  in  the  height 
of  her  glory,  retired  before  younger  and  cleverer  dancers ;  she 
did  wisely.  She  was  an  aristocrat;  she  had  scarcely  stooped 
below  the  noblesse  in  her  liaisons;  she  declined  to  dip  her 
ankles  in  the  troubled  waters  of  July.  Insolent  and  beautiful 
as  she  was,  Claudine  possessed  handsome  souvenirs,  but  very 
little  ready  money;  still,  her  jewels  were  magnificent,  and 
she  had  as  fine  furniture  as  any  one  in  Paris. 

"On  quitting  the  stage  when  she,  forgotten  to-day,  was  yet 
in  the  height  of  her  fame,  one  thought  possessed  her — she 
meant  du  Bruel  to  marry  her;  and  at  the  time  of  this  story, 
you  must  understand  that  the  marriage  had  taken  place,  but 
was  kept  a  secret.  How  do  women  of  her  class  contrive  to 
make  a  man  marry  them  after  seven  or  eight  years  of  in- 
timacy? What  springs  do  they  touch?  What  machinery 
do  they  set  in  motion?  But,  however  comical  such  domestic 
dramas  may  be,  we  are  not  now  concerned  with  them.  Du 
Bruel  was  secretly  married;  the  thing  was  done. 

"Cursy  before  his  marriage  was  supposed  to  be  a  jolly  com- 
panion; now  and  again  he  stayed  out  all  night,  and  to  some 
extent  led  the  life  of  a  Bohemian ;  he  would  unbend  at  a 
supper-party.  He  went  out  to  all  appearance  to  a  rehearsal 
at  the  Opera-Comique,  and  found  himself  in  some  unaccount- 
able way  at  Dieppe,  or  Baden,  or  Saint-Germain;  he  gave 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  237 

dinners,  led  the  Titanic  thriftless  life  of  artists,  journalists, 
and  writers ;  levied  his  tribute  on  all  the  greenrooms  of  Paris ; 
and,  in  short,  was  one  of  us.  Finot,  Lousteau,  du  Tillet, 
Desroches,  Bixiou,  Blondet,  Couture,  and  des  Lupeaulx 
tolerated  him  in  spite  of  his  pedantic  manner  and  ponderous 
official  attitude.  But  once  married,  Tullia  made  a  slave  of 
du  Bruel.  There  was  no  help  for  it.  He  was  in  love  with 
Tullia,  poor  devil. 

"  'Tullia'  (so  he  said)  'had  left  the  stage  to  be  his  alone, 
to  be  a  good  and  charming  wife.'  And  somehow  Tullia  man- 
aged to  induce  the  most  Puritanical  members  of  du  Bruel's 
family  to  accept  her.  From  the  very  first,  before  any  one 
suspected  her  motives,  she  assiduously  visited  old  Mme.  de 
Bonfalot,  who  bored  her  horribly;  she  made  handsome  pres- 
ents to  mean  old  Mme.  de  Chisse,  du  Bruel's  great-aunt ;  she 
spent  a  summer  with  the  latter  lady,  and  never  missed  a 
single  mass.  She  even  went  to  confession,  received  absolu- 
tion, and  took  the  sacrament;  but  this,  you  must  remember, 
was  in  the  country,  and  under  the  aunt's  eyes. 

"(I  shall  have  real  aunts  now,  do  you  understand?'  she 
said  to  us  when  she  came  back  in  the  winter. 

"She  was  so  delighted  with  her  respectability,  so  glad  to 
renounce  her  independence,  that  she  found  means  to  compass 
her  end.  She  flattered  the  old  people.  She  went  on  foot 
every  day  to  sit  for  a  couple  of  hours  with  Mme.  du  Bruel 
the  elder  while  that  lady  was  ill — a  Maintenon's  stratagem 
which  amazed  du  Bruel.  And  he  admired  his  wife  without 
criticism;  he  was  so  fast  in  the  toils  already  that  he  did  not 
feel  his  bonds. 

"Claudine  succeeded  in  making  him  understand  that  only 
under  the  elastic  system  of  a  bourgeois  government,  only  at 
the  bourgeois  court  of  the  Citizen-King,  could  a  Tullia,  now 
metamorphosed  into  a  Mme.  du  Bruel,  be  accepted  in  the  so- 
ciety which  her  good  sense  prevented  her  from  attempting 
to  enter.  Mme.  de  Bonfalot,  Mme.  de  Chisse,  and  Mme.  du 
Bruel  received  her;  she  was  satisfied.  She  took  up  the  posi- 
tion of  a  well-conducted,  simple,  and  virtuous  woman,  and 


238  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

never  acted  out  of  character.  In  three  years'  time  she  was 
introduced  to  the  friends  of  these  ladies. 

"  'And  still  I  cannot  persuade  myself  that  young  Mme.  du 
Bruel  used  to  display  her  ankles,  and  the  rest,  to  all  Paris, 
with  the  light  of  a  hundred  gas-jets  pouring  upon  her,'  Mme. 
Anselme  Popinot  remarked  naively. 

"From  this  point  of  view,  July  1830  inaugurated  an  era 
not  unlike  the  time  of  the  Empire,  when  a  waiting-woman 
was  received  at  Court  in  the  person  of  Mme.  Garat,  a  chief- 
justice's  'lady.'  Tullia  had  completely  broken,  as  you  may 
guess,  with  all  her  old  associates ;  of  her  former  acquaintances, 
she  only  recognized  those  who  could  not  compromise  her. 
At  the  time  of  her  marriage  she  had  taken  a  very  charming 
little  hotel  between  a  court  and  a  garden,  lavishing  money 
on  it  with  wild  extravagance  and  putting  the  best  part  of  her 
furniture  and  du  Bruel's  into  it.  Everything  that  she  thought 
common  or  ordinary  was  sold.  To  find  anything  comparable 
to  her  sparkling  splendor,  you  could  only  look  back  to  the 
days  when  a  Sophie  Arnould,  a  Guimard,  or  a  Duthe,  in  all 
her  glory,  squandered  the  fortunes  of  princes. 

"How  far  did  this  sumptuous  existence  affect  du  Bruel? 
It  is  a  delicate  question  to  ask,  and  a  still  more  delicate  one 
to  answer.  A  single  incident  will  suffice  to  give  you  an  idea 
of  Tullia's  crotchets.  Her  bed-spread  of  Brussels  lace  was 
worth  ten  thousand  francs.  A  famous  actress  had  another 
like  it.  As  soon  as  Claudine  heard  this,  she  allowed  her  cat, 
a  splendid  Angora,  to  sleep  on  the  bed.  That  trait  gives  you 
the  woman.  Du  Bruel  dared  not  say  a  word ;  he  was  ordered 
to  spread  abroad  that  challenge  in  luxury,  so  that  it  might 
reach  the  other.  Tullia  was  very  fond  of  this  gift  from  the 
Due  de  Rhetore;  but  one  day,  five  years  after  her  marriage, 
she  played  with  her  cat  to  such  purpose  that  the  coverlet — fur- 
belows, flounces,  and  all — was  torn  to  shreds,  and  replaced  by 
a  sensible  quilt,  a  quilt  that  was  a  quilt,  and  not  a  symptom 
of  the  peculiar  form  of  insanity  which  drives  these  women 
to  make  up  by  an  insensate  luxury  for  the  childish  days  when 
they  lived  on  raw  apples,  to  quote  the  expression  of  a  journal- 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  239 

ist.  The  day  when  the  bed-spread  was  torn  to  tatters  marked 
a  new  epoch  in  her  married  life. 

"Cursy  was  remarkable  for  his  ferocious  industry.  No- 
body suspects  the  source  to  which  Paris  owes  the  patch-and- 
powder  eighteenth  century  vaudevilles  that  flooded  the  stage. 
Those  thousand-and-one  vaudevilles,  which  raised  such  an 
outcry  among  the  feuilletonistes,  were  written  at  Mme.  du 
Bruel's  express  desire.  She  insisted  that  her  husband  should 
purchase  the  hotel  on  which  she  had  spent  so  much,  where  she 
had  housed  five  hundred  thousand  francs'  worth  of  furniture. 
Wherefore  Tullia  never  enters  into  explanations;  she  under- 
stands the  sovereign  woman's  reason  to  admiration. 

"  'People  made  a  good  deal  of  fun  of  Cursy/  said  she ; 
*but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  found  this  house  in  the  eight- 
eenth century  rouge-box,  powder,  puffs,  and  spangles.  He 
would  never  have  thought  of  it  but  for  me/  she  added,  bury- 
ing herself  in  her  cushions  in  her  fireside  corner. 

"She  delivered  herself  thus  on  her  return  from  a  first  night. 
Du  BrueFs  piece  had  succeeded,  and  she  foresaw  an  avalanche 
of  criticisms.  Tullia  had  her  At  Homes.  Every  Monday 
she  gave  a  tea-party;  her  society  was  as  select  as  might  be, 
and  she  neglected  nothing  that  could  make  her  house  pleasant. 
There  was  bouillotte  in  one  room,  conversation  in  another, 
qnd  sometimes  a  concert  (always  short)  in  the  large  draw- 
ing-room. None  but  the  most  eminent  artists  performed  in 
her  house.  Tullia  had  so  much  good  sense,  that  she  attained 
to  the  most  exquisite  tact,  and  herein,  in  all  probability,  lay 
the  secret  of  her  ascendency  over  du  Bruel;  at  any  rate,  he 
loved  her  with  the  love  which  use  and  wont  at  length  makes 
indispensable  to  life.  Every  day  adds  another  thread  to  the 
strong,  irresistible,  intangible  web,  which  enmeshes  the  most 
delicate  fancies,  takes  captive  every  most  transient  mood,  and 
binding  them  together,  holds  a  man  captive  hand  and  foot, 
heart  and  head. 

"Tullia  knew  Cursy  well ;  she  knew  every  weak  point  in  his 
armor,  knew  also  how  to  heal  his  wounds. 

"A  passion  of  this  kind  is  inscrutable  for  any  observer,  even 


240  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

for  a  man  who  prides  himself,  as  I  do,  on  a  certain  expertness. 
It  is  everywhere  unfathomable;  the  dark  depths  in  it  are 
darker  than  in  any  other  mystery;  the  colors  confused  even 
in  the  highest  lights. 

"Cursy  was  an  old  playwright,  jaded  by  the  life  of  the 
theatrical  world.  He  liked  comfort;  he  liked  a  luxurious, 
affluent,  easy  existence;  he  enjoyed  being  a  king  in  his  own 
house;  he  liked  to  be  host  to  a  party  of  men  of  letters  in  a 
hotel  resplendent  with  royal  luxury,  with  carefully  chosen 
works  of  art  shining  in  the  setting.  Tullia  allowed  du  Bruel 
to  enthrone  himself  amid  the  tribe;  there  were  plenty  of 
journalists  whom  it  was  easy  enough  to  catch  and  ensnare; 
and,  thanks  to  her  evening  parties  and  a  well-timed  loan  here 
and  there,  Cursy  was  not  attacked  too  seriously — his  plays 
succeeded.  For  these  reasons  he  would  not  have  separated 
from  Tullia  for  an  empire.  If  she  had  been  unfaithful,  he 
would  probably  have  passed  it  over,  on  condition  that  none 
of  his  accustomed  joys  should  be  retrenched;  yet,  strange  to 
say,  Tullia  caused  him  no  twinges  on  this  account.  No  fancy 
was  laid  to  her  charge;  if  there  had  been  any,  she  certainly 
had  been  very  careful  of  appearances. 

"  'My  dear  fellow,'  du  Bruel  would  say,  laying  down  the 
law  to  us  on  the  boulevard,  'there  is  nothing  like  one  of  these 
women  who  have  sown  their  wild  oats  and  got  over  their  pas- 
sions. Such  women  as  Claudine  have  lived  their  bachelor 
life ;  they  h'ave  been  over  head  and  ears  in  pleasure,  and  make 
the  most  adorable  wives  that  could  be  wished ;  they  have  noth- 
ing to  learn,  they  are  formed,  they  are  not  in  the  least 
prudish ;  they  are  well  broken  in,  and  indulgent.  So  I  strongly 
recommend  everybody  to  take  the  "remains  of  a  racer."  I 
am  the  most  fortunate  man  on  earth.' 

"Du  Bruel  said  this  to  me  himself  with  Bixiou  there  to 
hear  it. 

"  'My  dear  fellow/  said  the  caricaturist,  'perhaps  he  is  right 
to  be  in  the  wrong.' 

"About  a  week  afterwards,  du  Bruel  asked  us  to  dine  with 
him  one  Tuesday.  That  morning  I  went  to  see  him  on  a  piece 
of  theatrical  business,  a  case  submitted  to  us  for  arbitration 


A  PRINCE  OP  BOHEMIA  241 

by  the  commission  of  dramatic  authors.  We  were  obliged 
to  go  out  again;  but  before  we  started  he  went  to  Claudine's 
room,  knocked,  as  he  always  does,  and  asked  for  leave  to  enter. 

"  'We  live  in  grand  style/  said  he,  smiling ;  'we  are  free. 
Each  is  independent/ 

"We  were  admitted.  Du  Bruel  spoke  to  Claudine.  'I  have 
asked  a  few  people  to  dinner  to-day " 

"  'Just  like  you !'  cried  she.  'You  ask  people  without  speak- 
ing to  me;  I  count  for  nothing  here. — Now'  (taking  me  as  ar- 
bitrator Dy  a  glance)  'I  ask  you  yourself.  When  a  man  has 
been  so  foolish  as  to  live  with  a  woman  of  my  sort;  for,  after 
all,  I  was  an  opera  dancer — yes,  I  ought  always  to  remember 
that,  if  other  people  are  to  forget  it — well,  under  those  cir- 
cumstances, a  clever  man  seeking  to  raise  his  wife  in  public 
opinion  would  do  his  best  to  impose  her  upon  the  world  as  a 
remarkable  woman,  to  justify  the  step  he  had  taken  by  ac- 
knowledging that  in  some  ways  she  was  something  more 
than  ordinary  women,  The  best  way  of  compelling  respect 
from  others  is  to  pay  respect  to  her  at  home,  and  to  leave 
her  absolute  mistress  of  the  house.  Well,  and  yet  it  is  enough 
to  waken  one's  vanity  to  see  how  frightened  he  is  of  seeming 
to  listen  to  me.  I  must  be  in  the  right  ten  times  over  if  he 
concedes  a  single  point.' 

"  ( Emphatic  negative  gestures  from  du  Bruel  at  every  other 
word.) 

"  'Oh,  yes,  yes/  she  continued  quickly,  in  answer  to  this 
mute  dissent.  'I  know  all  about  it,  du  Bruel,  my  dear,  I  that 
have  been  like  a  queen  in  my  house  all  my  life  till  I  married 
you.  My  wishes  were  guessed,  fulfilled,  and  more  than  fulfilled. 
After  all,  I  am  thirty-five,  and  at  five-and-thirty  a  woman  can- 
not expect  to  be  loved.  Ah,  if  I  were  a  girl  of  sixteen,  if  I  had 
not  lost  something  that  is  dearly  bought  at  the  Opera,  what  at- 
tention you  would  pay  me,  M.  du  Bruel !  I  feel  the  most  su- 
preme contempt  for  men  who  boast  that  they  can  love  and  grow 
careless  and  neglectful  in  little  things  as  time  grows  on.  You 
are  short  and  insignificant,  yon  see,  du  Bruel ;  you  love  to  tor- 
ment a  woman ;  it  is  your  only  way  of  showing  your  strength. 


242  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

A  Napoleon  is  ready  to  be  swayed  by  the  woman  he  loves ;  he 
loses  nothing  by  it ;  but  as  for  such  as  you,  you  believe  that  you 
are  nothing  apparently,  you  do  not  wish  to  be  ruled. — Five- 
and-thirty,  my  dear  boy/  she  continued,  turning  to  me,  'that  is 
the  clue  to  the  riddle. — "No,"  does  he  say  again  ? — You  know 
quite  well  that  I  am  thirty-seven.  I  am  very  sorry,  but  just 
ask  your  friends  to  dine  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale.  I  could 
have  them  here,  but  I  will  not;  they  shall  not  come.  And 
then  perhaps  my  poor  little  monologue  may  engrave  that 
salutary  maxim,  "Each  is  master  at  home,"  upon  your  mem- 
ory. That  is  our  charter/  she  added,  laughing,  with  a  return 
of  the  opera  girl's  giddiness  and  caprice. 

"  'Well,  well,  my  dear  little  puss ;  there,  there,  never  mind. 
We  can  manage  to  get  on  together/  said  du  Bruel,  and  he 
kissed  her  hands,  and  we  came  away.  But  he  was  very  wroth. 

"The  whole  way  from  the  Eue  de  la  Victoire  to  the  boule- 
vard a  perfect  torrent  of  venomous  words  poured  fjom  his 
mouth  like  a  waterfall  in  flood ;  but  as  the  shocking  language 
which  he  used  on  the  occasion  was  quite  unfit  to  print,  the 
report  is  necessarily  inadequate. 

"  'My  dear  fellow,  I  will  leave  that  vile,  shameless  opera 
dancer,  a  worn-out  jade  that  has  been  set  spinning  like  a  top 
to  every  operatic  air ;  a  foul  hussy,  an  organ-grinder's  monkey  ! 
Oh,  my  dear  boy,  you  have  taken  up  with  an  actress ;  may  the 
notion  of  marrying  your  mistress  never  get  a  hold  on  you. 
It  is  a  torment  omitted  from  the  hell  of  Dante,  you  see. 
Look  here  !  I  will  beat  her ;  I  will  give  her  a  thrashing ;  I  will 
give  it  to  her !  Poison  of  my  life,  she  sent  me  off  like  a  run- 
ning footman/ 

"By  this  time  we  had  reached  the  boulevard,  and  he  had 
worked  himself  up  to  such  a  pitch  of  fury  that  the  words 
stuck  in  his  throat. 

"  'I  will  kick  the  stuffing  out  of  her !' 

"'And  why?' 

"  'My  dear  fellow,  you  will  never  know  the  thousand-and- 
one  fancies  that  slut  takes  into  her  head.  When  I  want  to 
stay  at  home,  she,  forsooth,  must  go  out;  when  I  want  to  go 


A  PRINCE  OP  BOHEMIA  243 

out,  she  wants  me  to  stop  at  home;  and  she  spouts  out  argu- 
ments and  accusations  and  reasoning  and  talks  and  talks  till 
she  drives  you  crazy.  Eight  means  any  whim  that  they 
happen  to  take  into  their  heads,  and  wrong  means  our  notion. 
Overwhelm  them  with  something  that  cuts  their  arguments 
to  pieces — they  hold  their  tongues  and  look  at  you  as  if  you 
were  a  dead  dog.  My  happiness  indeed !  I  lead  the  life  of  a 
yard-dog;  I  am  a  perfect  slave.  The  little  happiness  that  I 
have  with  her  costs  me  dear.  Confound  it  all.  I  will  leave 
her  everything  and  take  myself  off  to  a  garret.  Yes,  a  garret 
and  liberty.  I  have  not  dared  to  have  my  own  way  once  in 
these  five  years.' 

"But  instead  of  going  to  his  guests,  Cursy  strode  up  and 
down  the  boulevard  between  the  Kue  de  Richelieu  and  the 
Rue  du  Mont  Blanc,  indulging  in  the  most  fearful  impreca- 
tions, his  unbounded  language  was  most  comical  to  hear.  His 
paroxysm  of  fury  in  the  street  contrasted  oddly  with  his 
peaceable  demeanor  in  the  house.  Exercise  assisted  him  to 
work  off  his  nervous  agitation  and  inward  tempest.  About 
two  o'clock,  on  a  sudden  frantic  impulse,  he  exclaimed : 

"  'These  damned  females  never  know  what  they  want.  I 
will  wager  my  head  now  that  if  I  go  home  and  tell  her  that 
I  have  sent  to  ask  my  friends  to  dine  with  me  at  the  Rocker 
de  Cancale,  she  will  not  be  satisfied  though  she  made  the 
arrangement  herself. — But  she  will  have  gone  off  somewhere 
or  other.  I  wonder  whether  there  is  something  at  the  bottom 
of  all  this,  an  assignation  with  some  goat  ?  No.  In  the  bot- 
tom of  her  heart  she  loves  me  !' '; 

The  Marquise  could  not  help  smiling. 

"Ah,  madame,"  said  Nathan,  looking  keenly  at  her,  "only 
women  and  prophets  know  how  to  turn  faith  to  account. — Du 
Bruel  would  have  me  go  home  with  him,"  he  continued,  "and 
we  went  slowly  back.  It  was  three  o'clock.  Before  he  ap- 
peared, he  heard  a  stir  in  the  kitchen,  saw  preparations 
going  forward,  and  glanced  at  me  as  he  asked  the  cook  the 
reason  of  this. 

"'Madame  ordered  dinner/  said  the  woman.     'Madame 


244  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

dressed  and  ordered  a  cab,  and  then  she  changed  her  mind 
and  ordered  it  again  for  the  theatre  this  evening.' 

"  'Good/  exclaimed  du  Bruel,  'what  did  I  tell  you  ?' 

"We  entered  the  house  stealthily.  No  one  was  there.  We 
went  from  room  to  room  until  we  reached  a  little  houdoir, 
and  came  upon  Tullia  in  tears.  She  dried  her  eyes  without 
affectation,  and  spoke  to  du  Bruel. 

"  'Send  a  note  to  the  Rocher  de  Cancale/  she  said,  'and  ask 
your  guests  to  dine  here.' 

"She  was  dressed  as  only  women  of  the  theatre  can  dress, 
in  a  simply-made  gown  of  some  dainty  material,  neither  too 
costly  nor  too  common,  graceful,  and  harmonious  in  outline 
and  coloring;  there  was  nothing  conspicuous  about  her,  noth- 
ing exaggerated — a  word  now  dropping  out  of  use,  to  be  re- 
placed by  the  word  'artistic,'  used  by  fools  as  current  coin. 
In  short,  Tullia  looked  like  a  gentlewoman.  At  thirty-seven 
she  had  reached  the  prime  of  a  Frenchwoman's  beauty.  At 
this  moment  the  celebrated  oval  of  her  face  was  divinely  pale ; 
she  had  laid  her  hat  aside ;  I  could  see  a  faint  down  like  the 
bloom  of  fruit  softening  the  silken  contours  of  a  cheek  itself 
so  delicate.  There  was  a  pathetic  charm  about  her  face  with 
its  double  cluster  of  fair  hair;  her  brilliant  gray  eyes  were 
veiled  by  a  mist  of  tears;  her  nose,  delicately  carved  as  a 
Roman  cameo,  with  its  quivering  nostrils;  her  little  mouth, 
like  a  child's  even  now;  her  long  queenly  throat,  with  the 
veins  standing  out  upon  it ;  her  chin,  flushed  for  the  moment 
by  some  secret  despair;  the  pink  tips  of  her  ears,  the  hands 
that  trembled  under  her  gloves,  everything  about  her  told 
of  violent  feeling.  The  feverish  twitching  of  her  eyebrows 
betrayed  her  pain.  She  looked  sublime. 

"Her  first  words  had  crushed  du  Bruel.  She  looked  at  us 
both,  with  that  penetrating,  impenetrable  cat-like  glance 
which  only  actresses  and  great  ladies  can  use.  Then  she  held 
out  her  hand  to  her  husband. 

"  'Poor  dear,  you  had  scarcely  gone  before  I  blamed  myself 
a  thousand  times  over.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  been 
horribly  ungrateful.  I  told  myself  that  I  had  been  unkind. 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  245 

— Was  I  very  unkind?'  she  asked,  turning  to  me. — *Why  not 
receive  your  friends?  Is  it  not  your  house?  Do  you  want 
to  know  the  reason  of  it  all  ?  Well,  I  was  afraid  that  I  was  not 
loved ;  and  indeed  I  was  half-way  between  repentance  and  the 
shame  of  going  back.  I  read  the  newspapers,  and  saw  that 
there  was  a  first  night  at  the  Varietes,  and  I  thought  you  had 
meant  to  give  the  dinner  to  a  collaborator.  Left  to  myself, 
I  gave  way,  I  dressed  to  hurry  out  after  you — poor  pet/ 

Du  Bruel  looked  at  me  triumphantly,  not  a  vestige  of  a 
recollection  of  his  orations  contra  Tullia,  in  his  mind. ' 

"  'Well,  dearest,  I  have  not  spoken  to  any  one  of  them/  he 
said. 

"  'How  well  we  understand  each  other !'  quoth  she. 

"Even  as  she  uttered  those  bewildering  sweet  words,  I 
caught  sight  of  something  in  her  belt,  the  corner  of  a  little 
note  thrust  sidewise  into  it;  but  I  did  not  need  that  indica- 
tion to  tell  me  that  Tullia's  fantastic  conduct  was  referable 
to  occult  causes.  Woman,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  most  logical 
of  created  beings,  the  child  alone  excepted.  In  both  we  be- 
hold a  sublime  phenomenon,  the  unvarying  triumph  of  one 
dominant,  all-excluding  thought.  The  child's  thought 
changes  every  moment;  but  while  it  possesses  him,  he  acta 
upon  it  with  such  ardor  that  others  give  way  before  him,  fas- 
cinated by  the  ingenuity,  the  persistence  of  a  strong  desire. 
Woman  is  less  changeable,  but  to  call  her  capricious  is  a 
stupid  insult.  Whenever  she  acts,  she  is  always  swayed  by 
one  dominant  passion;  and  wonderful  it  is  to  see  how  she 
makes  that  passion  the  very  centre  of  her  world. 

"Tullia  was  irresistible;  she  twisted  du  Bruel  round  her 
fingers,  the  sky  grew  blue  again,  the  evening  was  glorious. 
And  ingenious  writer  of  plays  as  he  is,  he  never  so  much  as 
saw  that  his  wife  had  buried  a  trouble  out  of  sight. 

"  'Such  is  life,  my  dear  fellow,'  he  said  to  me,  'ups  and 
downs  and  contrasts.' 

"  'Especially  life  off  the  stage,'  I  put  in. 

"  'That  is  just  what  I  mean/  he  continued.  'Why,  but 
for  these  violent  emotions,  one  would  be  bored  to  death !  Ah  - 
that  woman  has  the  gift  of  rousing  me.' 


2«6  A  PRINCE  OP  BOHEMIA 

"We  went  to  the  Varietes  after  dinner;  but  before  we  left 
the  house  I  slipped  into  du  Bruel's  room,  and  on  a  shelf 
among  a  pile  of  waste  papers  found  the  copy  of  the  Petites- 
Affiches,  in  which,  agreeably  to  the  reformed  law,  notice  of 
the  purchase  of  the  house  was  inserted.  The  words  stared 
me  in  the  face — 'At  the  request  of  Jean  Frangois  du  Bruel 
and  Claudine  Chaffaroux,  his  wife -'  Here  was  the  expla- 
nation of  the  whole  matter.  I  offered  my  arm  to  Claudine, 
and  allowed  the  guests  to  descend  the  stairs  in  front  of  us. 
When  'we  were  alone — 'If  I  were  La  Palferine/  I  said,  'I 
would  not  break  an  appointment.' 

"Gravely  she  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips.  She  leant  on  my 
arm  as  we  went  downstairs,  and  looked  at  me  with  almost 
something  like  happiness  in  her  eyes  because  I  knew  La  Pal- 
ferine.  Can  you  see  the  first  idea  that  occurred  to  her?  She 
thought  of  making  a  spy  of  me,  but  I  turned  her  off  with  the 
light  jesting  talk  of  Bohemia. 

"A  month  later,  after  a  first  performance  of  one  of  du 
Bruel's  plays,  we  met  in  the  vestibule  of  the  theatre.  It  was 
raining;  I  went  to  call  a  cab.  We  had  been  delayed  for  a 
few  minutes,  so  that  there  were  no  cabs  in  sight.  Claudine 
scolded  du  Bruel  soundly;  and  as  we  rolled  through  the 
streets  (for  she  set  me  down  at  Florine's),  she  continued 
the  quarrel  with  a  series  of  most  mortifying  remarks. 

"  'What  is  this  about  ?'  I  inquired. 

"  'Oh,  my  dear  fellow,  she  blames  me  for  allowing  you  to 
run  out  for  a  cab,  and  thereupon  proceeds  to  wish  for  a  car- 
riage/ 

"'As  a  dancer/  said  she,  'I  have  never  been  accustomed 
to  use  my  feet  except  on  the  boards.  If  you  have  any  spirit, 
you  will  turn  out  four  more  plays  or  so  in  a  year;  you  will 
make  up  your  mind  that  succeed  they  must,  when  you  think 
of  the  end  in  view,  and  that  your  wife  will  not  walk  in  the 
mud.  It  is  a  shame  that  I  should  have  to  ask  for  it.  You 
ought  to  have  guessed  my  continual  discomfort  during  the  five 
years  since  I  married  you.' 

"  'I  am  quite  willing,'  returned  du  Bruel.  'But  we  shall 
ruin  ourselves.' 


A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA  24? 

"  'If  you  run  into  debt/  she  said,  'my  uncle's  money  will 
clear  it  off  some  day.' 

"  'You  are  quite  capable  of  leaving  me  the  debts  and  tak- 
ing the  property.' 

"  'Oh !  is  that  the  way  you  take  it  ?'  retorted  she.  'I  have 
nothing  more  to  say  to  you ;  such  a  speech  stops  my  mouth.' 

"Whereupon  du  Bruel  poured  out  his  soul  in  excuses  and 
protestations  of  love.  Not  a  word  did  she  say.  He  took  her 
hands,  she  allowed  him  to  take  them;  they  were  like  ice,  like 
a  dead  woman's  hands.  Tullia,  you  can  understand,  was 
playing  to  admiration  the  part  of  corpse  that  women  can 
play  to  show  you  that  they  refuse  their  consent  to  anything  and 
everything;  that  for  you  they  are  suppressing  soul,  spirit, 
and  life,  and  regard  themselves  as  beasts  of  burden.  Noth- 
ing so  provokes  a  man  with  a  heart  as  this  strategy.  Women 
can  only  use  it  with  those  who  worship  them. 

"She  turned  to  me.  'Do  you  suppose,'  she  said  scornfully, 
'that  a  Count  would  have  uttered  such  an  insult  even  if  the 
thought  had  entered  his  mind?  For  my  misfortune  I  have 
lived  with  dukes,  ambassadors,  and  great  lords,  and  I  know 
their  ways.  How  intolerable  it  makes  bourgeois  life !  After 
all,  a  playwright  is  not  a  Rastignac  nor  a  Rhetore ' 

"Du  Bruel  looked  ghastly  at  this.  Two  days  afterwards 
we  met  in  the  foyer  at  the  Opera,  and  took  a  few  turns  to- 
gether. The  conversation  fell  on  Tullia. 

"  'Do  not  take  my  ravings  on  the  boulevard  too  seriously/ 
said  he;  'I  have  a  violent  temper.' 

"For  two  winters  I  was  a  tolerably  frequent  visitor  at  du 
Bruel's  house,  and  I  followed  Claudine's  tactics  closely.  She 
had  a  splendid  carriage.  Du  Bruel  entered  public  life;  she 
made  him  abjure  his  Royalist  opinions.  He  rallied  himself; 
he  took  his  place  again  in  the  administration;  the  National 
Guard  was  discreetly  canvassed,  du  Bruel  was  elected  major, 
and  behaved  so  valorously  in  a  street  riot,  that  he  was  deco- 
rated with  the  rosette  of  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 
He  was  appointed  Master  of  Requests  and  head  of  a  depart- 
ment. Uncle  Chaffaroux  died  and  left  his  niece  forty  thou- 


248  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

sand  francs  per  annum,  three-fourths  of  his  fortune.  Du 
Bruel  became  a  deputy;  but  beforehand,  to  save  the  necessity 
of  re-election,  he  secured  his  nomination  to  the  Council  of 
State.'  He  reprinted  divers  archaeological  treatises,  a  couple 
of  political  pamphlets,  and  a  statistical  work,  by  way  of  pre- 
text for  his  appointment  to  one  of  the  obliging  academies  of 
the  Institut.  At  this  moment  he  is  a  Commander  of  the  Le- 
gion, and  (after  fishing  in  the  troubled  waters  of  political 
intrigue)  has  quite  recently  been  made  a  peer  of  France  and 
a  count.  As  yet  our  friend  does  not  venture  to  bear  his 
honors;  his  wife  merely  puts  'La  Comtesse  du  Bruel'  on  her 
cards.  The  sometime  playwright  has  the  Order  of  Leopold, 
the  Order  of  Isabella,  the  Cross  of  Saint-Vladimir,  second 
class,  the  Order  of  Civil  Merit  of  Bavaria,  the  Papal  Order  of 
the  Golden  Spur, — all  the  lesser  orders,  in  short,  besides  the 
Grand  Cross. 

"Three  months  ago  Claudine  drove  to  La  Palferine's  door 
in  her  splendid  carriage  with  its  armorial  bearings.  Du 
Bruel's  grandfather  was  a  farmer  of  taxes  ennobled  towards 
the  end  of  Louis  Quatorze's  reign.  Cherin  composed  his  coat- 
of-arms  for  him,  so  the  Count's  coronet  looks  not  amiss  above 
a  scutcheon  innocent  of  Imperial  absurdities.  In  this  way, 
in  the  short  space  of  three  years,  Claudine  had  carried  out 
the  programme  laid  down  for  her  by  the  charming,  light- 
hearted  La  Palferine. 

"One  day,  just  a  month  ago,  she  climbed  the  miserable 
staircase  to  her  lover's  lodging ;  climbed  in  her  glory,  dressed 
like  a  re#l  countess  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain,  to  our 
friend's  garret.  La  Palferine,  seeing  her,  said,  'You  have 
made  a  peeress  of  yourself  I  know.  But  it  is  too  late,  Claud- 
ine ;  every  one  is  talking  just  now  about  the  Southern  Cross,, 
I  should  like  to  see  it !' 

"  'I  will  get  it  for  you.' 

"La  Palferine  burst  into  a  peal  of  Homeric  laughter. 

"  'Most  distinctly,'  he  returned,  'I  do  not  wish  to  have  a 
woman  as  ignorant  as  a  carp  for  my  mistress,  a  woman  that 
springs  like  a  flying  fish  from  the  green-room  of  the  Opera 


A  PRINCE  OP  BOHEMIA  249 

to  Court,  for  I  should  like  to  see  you  at  the  Court  of  the  Citi- 
zen King.' 

"She  turned  to  me. 

"  'What  is  the  Southern  Cross  ?'  she  asked,  in  a  sad,  down- 
cast voice. 

"I  was  struck  with  admiration  for  this  indomitable  love, 
outdoing  the  most  ingenious  marvels  of  fairy  tales  in  real 
life — a  love  that  would  spring  over  a  precipice  to  find  a  roc's 
egg,  or  to  gather  the  singing  flower.  I  explained  that  the 
Southern  Cross  was  a  nebulous  constellation  even  brighter 
than  the  Milky  Way,  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and 
that  it  could  only  be  seen  in  southern  latitudes. 

"  'Very  well,  Charles,  let  us  go,'  said  she. 

"La  Palferine,  ferocious  though  he  was,  had  tears  in  his 
eyes;  but  what  a  look  there  was  in  Claudine's  face,  what  a 
note  in  her  voice !  I  have  seen  nothing  like  the  thing  that 
followed,  not  even  in  the  supreme  touch  of  a  great  actor's 
art;  nothing  to  compare  with  her  movement  when  she  saw 
the  hard  eyes  softened  in  tears ;  Claudine  sank  upon  her  knees 
and  kissed  La  Palferine's  pitiless  hand.  He  raised  her  with 
his  grand  manner,  his  'Rusticoli  air/  as  he  calls  it — 'There, 
child  !'  he  said,  'I  will  do  something  for  you ;  I  will  put  you — 
in  my  will.' 

"Well,"  concluded  Nathan,  "I  ask  myself  sometimes 
whether  du  Bruel  is  really  deceived.  Truly  there  is  nothing 
more  comic,  nothing  stranger  than  the  sight  of  a  careless 
young  fellow  ruling  a  married  couple,  his  slightest  whims 
received  as  law,  the  weightiest  decisions  revoked  at  a  word 
from  him.  That  dinner  incident,  as  you  can  see,  is  repeated 
times  without  number,  it  interferes  with  important  matters. 
Still,  but  for  Claudine's  caprices,  du  Bruel  would  be  de  Cursy 
still,  one  vaudevillist  among  five  hundred;  whereas  he  is  in 
the  House  of  Peers." 

"You  will  change  the  names,  I  hope!"  said  Nathan,  ad- 
dressing Mme.  de  la  Baudraye. 
"I  should  think  so !    I  have  only  set  names  to  the  masks  for 


250  A  PRINCE  OF  BOHEMIA 

you.  My  dear  Nathan,"  she  added  in  the  poet's  ear,  "I  know 
another  case  in  which  the  wife  takes  du  Bruel's  place." 

"And  the  catastrophe?"  queried  Lousteau,  returning  just 
at  the  end  of  Mme.  de  la  Baudraye's  story. 

"I  do  not  believe  in  catastrophes.  One  has  to  invent  such 
good  ones  to  show  that  art  is  quite  a  match  for  chance;  and 
nobody  reads  a  book  twice,  my  friend,  except  for  the  details." 

"But  there  is  a  catastrophe,"  persisted  Nathan. 

"What  is  it?" 

"The  Marquise  de  Rochefide  is  infatuated  with  Charles 
Edward.  My  story  excited  her  curiosity." 

"Oh,  unhappy  woman !"  cried  Mme.  de  la  Baudraye. 

"Not  so  unhappy,"  said  Nathan,  "for  Maxime  de  Trailles 
and  La  Pal  ferine  have  brought  about  a  rupture  between  the 
Marquis  and  Mme.  Schontz,  and  they  mean  to  make  it  up 
between  Arthur  and  Beatrix." 

1839-1845. 


A  MAN   OF   BUSINESS 

To  Monsieur  le  Baron  James  de  Rothschild,  Banker  and 
Austrian  Consul-General  at  Paris. 

THE  word  lorette  is  a  euphemism  invented  to  describe  the 
status  of  a  personage,  or  a  personage  of  a  status,  of  which  it 
is  awkward  to  speak;  the  French  Academie,  in  its  modesty, 
having  omitted  to  supply  a  definition  out  of  regard  for  the 
age  of  its  forty  members.  Whenever  a  new  word  comes  to 
supply  the  place  of  an  unwieldy  circumlocution,  its  fortune 
is  assured;  the  word  lorette  has  passed  into  the  language  of 
every  class  of  society,  even  where  the  lorette  herself  will  never 
gain  an  entrance.  It  was  only  invented  in  1840,  and  derived 
beyond  a  doubt  from  the  agglomeration  of  such  swallows' 
nests  about  the  Church  of  Our  Lady  of  Loretto.  This  infor- 
mation is  for  etymologists  only.  Those  gentlemen  would  not 
be  so  often  in  a  quandary  if  mediaeval  writers  had  only  taken 
euch  pains  with  details  of  contemporary  manners  as  we  take 
in  these  days  of  analysis  and  description. 

Mile.  Turquet,  or  Malaga,  for  she  is  better  known  by  her 
pseudonym,*  was  one  of  the  earliest  parishioners  of  that 
charming  church.  At  the  time  to  which  this  story  belongs, 
that  lighthearted  and  lively  damsel  gladdened  the  existence 
of  a  notary  with  a  wife  somewhat  too  bigoted,  rigid,  and  frigid 
for  domestic  happiness. 

Now,  it  so  fell  out  that  one  Carnival  evening  Maitre  Cardot 
was  entertaining  guests  at  Mile.  Turquet's  house — Desroches 
the  attorney,  Bixiou  of  the  caricatures,  Lousteau  the  journal- 
ist, Nathan,  and  others;  it  is  quite  unnecessary  to  give  any 
further  description  of  these  personages,  all  bearers  of  illus- 
trious names  in  the  Comedic  Hninaine.  Young  La  Palferine, 

*See  Lafausse  Maitresse. 
(251) 


252  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

in  spite  of  his  title  of  Count  and  his  great  descent,  which, 
alas !  means  a  great  descent  in  fortune  likewise,  had  honored 
the  notary's  little  establishment  with  his  presence. 

At  dinner,  in  such  a  house,  one  does  not  expect  to  meet 
the  patriarchal  beef,  the  skinny  fowl  and  salad  of  domestic 
and  family  life,  nor  is  there  any  attempt  at  the  hypocritical 
conversation  of  drawing-rooms  furnished  with  highly  respect- 
able matrons.  When,  alas!  will  respectability  be  charming? 
When  will  the  women  in  good  society  vouchsafe  to  show  rather 
less  of  their  shoulders  and  rather  more  wit  or  geniality  ?  Mar- 
guerite Turquet,  the  Aspasia  of  the  Cirque-Olympique,  is 
one  of  those  frank,  very  living  personalities  to  whom  all  is 
forgiven,  such  unconscious  sinners  are  they,  such  intelligent 
penitents;  of  such  as  Malaga  one  might  ask,  like  Cardot — a 
witty  man  enough,  albeit  a  notary — to  be  well  "deceived." 
And  yet  you  must  not  think  that  any  enormities  were  com- 
mitted. Desroches  and  Cardot  were  good  fellows  grown  too 
gray  in  the  profession  not  to  feel  at  ease  with  Bixiou,  Lous- 
teau,  Nathan,  and  young  La  Palferine.  And  they  on  their 
side  had  too  often  had  recourse  to  their  legal  advisers,  and 
knew  them  too  well  to  try  to  "draw  them  out,"  in  lorette  lan- 
guage. 

Conversation,  perfumed  with  seven  cigars,  at  first  was  as 
fantastic  as  a  kid  let  loose,  but  finally  it  settled  down  upon 
the  strategy  of  the  constant  war  waged  in  Paris  between  cred- 
itors and  debtors. 

Now,  if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  recall  the  history  and 
antecedents  of  the  guests,  you  will  know  that  in  all  Paris  you 
could  scarcely  find  a  group  of  men  with  more  experience  in 
this  matter ;  the  professional  men  on  one  hand,  and  the  artists 
on  the  other,  were  something  in  the  position  of  magistrates 
and  criminals  hobnobbing  together.  A  set  of  Bixiou's  draw- 
ings to  illustrate  life  in  the  debtors'  prison,  led  the  conversa- 
tion to  take  this  particular  turn;  and  from  debtors'  prisons 
they  went  to  debts. 

It  was  midnight.  They  had  broken  up  into  little  knots 
round  the  table  and  before  the  fire,  and  gave  themselves  up 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  253 

to  the  burlesque  fun  which  is  only  possible  or  comprehensible 
in  Paris  and  in  that  particular  region  which  is  bounded 
by  the  Faubourg  Montmartre,  the  Eue  Chaussee  d'Antin,  the 
upper  end  of  the  Eue  de  Navarin  and  the  line  of  the  boule- 
vards. 

In  ten  minutes'  time  they  had  come  to  an  end  of  all  the 
deep  reflections,  all  the  moralizings,  small  and  great,  all  the 
bad  puns  made  on  a  subject  already  exhausted  by  Eabelais 
three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  It  is  not  a  little  to  their 
credit  that  the  pyrotechnic  display  was  cut  short  with  a  final 
squib  from  Malaga. 

"It  all  goes  to  the  shoemakers,"  she  said.  "I  left  a  milliner 
because  she  failed  twice  with  my  hats.  The  vixen  has  been 
here  twenty-seven  times  to  ask  for  twenty  francs.  She  did 
not  know  that  we  never  have  twenty  francs.  One  has  a  thou- 
sand francs,  or  one  sends  to  one's  notary  for  five  hundred; 
but  twenty  francs  I  have  never  had  in  my  life.  My  cook  and 
my  maid  may,  perhaps,  have  so  much  between  them;  but  for 
my  own  part,  I  have  nothing  but  credit,  and  I  should  lose  that 
if  I  took  to  borrowing  small  sums.  If  I  were  to  ask  for  twenty 
francs,  I  should  have  nothing  to  distinguish  me  from  my  col- 
leagues that  walk  the  boulevard." 

"Is  the  milliner  paid?"  asked  La  Palferine. 

"Oh,  come  now,  are  you  turning  stupid?"  said  she,  with  a 
wink.  "She  came  this  morning  for  the  twenty-seventh  time, 
that  is  how  I  came  to  mention  it." 

"What  did  you  do?"  asked  Desroches. 

"I  took  pity  upon  her,  and — ordered  a  little  hat  that  I 
have  just  invented,  a  quite  new  shape.  If  Mile.  Amanda 
succeeds  with  it,  she  will  say  no  more  about  the  money,  her 
fortune  is  made." 

"In  my  opinion,"  put  in  Desroches,  "the  finest  things  that 
I  have  seen  in  a  duel  of  this  kind  give  those  who  know  Paris 
a  far  better  picture  of  the  city  than  all  the  fancy  portraits 
that  they  paint.  Some  of  you  think  that  you  know  a  thing 
or  two,"  he  continued,  glancing  round  at  Nathan,  Bixiou,  La 
Palferine,  and  Lousteau,  "but  the  king  of  the  ground  is  a 


254  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

certain  Count,  now  busy  ranging  himself.  In  his  time,  he 
was  supposed  to  be  the  cleverest,  adroitest,  canniest,  boldest, 
stoutest,  most  subtle  and  experienced  of  all  the  pirates,  who, 
equipped  with  fine  manners,  yellow  kid  gloves,  and  cabs,  have 
ever  sailed  or  ever  will  sail  upon  the  stormy  sea  of  Paris.  He 
fears  neither  God  nor  man.  He  applies  in  private  life  the 
principles  that  guide  the  English  Cabinet.  Up  to  the  time 
of  his  marriage,  his  life  was  one  continual  war,  like — Lous- 
teau's,  for  instance.  I  was,  and  am  still  his  solicitor." 

"And  the  first  letter  of  his  name  is  Maxime  de  Trailles," 
said  La  Palferine. 

"For  that  matter,  he  has  paid  every  one,  and  injured  no 
one,"  continued  Desroches.  "But  as  our  friend  Bixiou  was 
saying  just  now,  it  is  a  violation  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject 
to  be  made  to  pay  in  March  when  you  have  no  mind  to  pay 
till  October.  By  virtue  of  this  article  of  his  particular  code, 
Maxime  regarded  a  creditor's  scheme  for  making  him  pay  at 
once  as  a  swindler's  trick.  It  was  long  since  he  had  grasped 
the  significance  of  the  bill  of  exchange  in  all  its  bearings, 
direct  and  remote.  A  young  man  once,  in  my  place,  called  a 
bill  of  exchange  the  'asses'  bridge'  in  his  hearing.  'No,'  said' 
he,  'it  is  the  Bridge  of  Sighs ;  it  is  the  shortest  way  to  an  exe- 
cution.' Indeed,  his  knowledge  of  commercial  law  was  so 
complete,  that  a  professional  could  not  have  taught  him  any- 
thing. At  that  time  he  had  nothing,  as  you  know.  His  car- 
riage and  horses  were  jobbed;  he  lived  in  his  valet's  house; 
and,  by  the  way,  he  will  be  a  hero  to  his  valet  to  the  end  of 
the  chapter,  even  after  the  marriage  that  he  proposes  to  make. 
He  belonged  to  three  clubs,  and  dined  at  one  of  them  when- 
ever he  did  not  dine  out.  As  a  rule,  he  was  to  be  found  very 
seldom  at  his  own  address " 

"He  once  said  to  me,"  interrupted  La  Palferine,  "  'My  one 
affectation  is  the  pretence  that  I  make  of  living  in  the  Eue 
Pigalle/  '; 

'•'Well,"  resumed  Desroches,  "he  was  one  of  the  combatants ; 
and  now  for  the  other.  You  have  heard  more  or  less  talk  of 
one  Claparon?" 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  255 

"Had  hair  like  this !"  cried  Bixiou,  ruffling  his  locks  till 
they  stood  on  end.  Gifted  with  the  same  talent  for  mimick- 
ing absurdities  which  Chopin  the  pianist  possesses  to  so  high 
a  degree,  he  proceeded  forthwith  to  represent  the  character 
with  startling  truth. 

"He  rolls  his  head  like  this  when  he  speaks ;  he  was  once  a 
commercial  traveler;  he  has  been  all  sorts  of  things " 

"Well,  he  was  born  to  travel,  for  at  this  minute,  as  I  speak, 
he  is  on  the  sea  on  his  way  to  America,"  said  Desroches.  "It 
is  his  only  chance,  for  in  all  probability  he  will  be  condemned 
by  default  as  a  fraudulent  bankrupt  next  session." 

"Very  much  at  sea !"  exclaimed  Malaga. 

"For  six  or  seven  years  this  Claparon  acted  as  man  of  straw, 
cat's-paw,  and  scapegoat  to  two  friends  of  ours,  du  Tillet  and 
Nucingen;  but  in  1829  his  part  was  so  well  known  that " 

"Our  friends  dropped  him,"  put  in  Bixiou. 

"They  left  him  to  his  fate  at  last,  and  he  wallowed  in  the 
mire,"  continued  Desroches.  "In  1833  he  went  into  partner- 
ship with  one  Cerizet " 

"What !  he  that  promoted  a  joint-stock  company  so  nicely 
that  the  Sixth  Chamber  cut  short  his  career  with  a  couple 
of  years  in  jail?"  asked  the  lorette. 

"The  same.  Under  the  Eestoration,  between  1823  and 
1827,  Cerizet's  occupation  consisted  in  first  putting  his  name 
intrepidly  to  various  paragraphs,  on  which  the  public  prose- 
cutor fastened  with  avidity,  and  subsequently  marching  off 
to  prison.  A  man  could  make  a  name  for  himself  with  small 
expense  in  those  days.  The  Liberal  party  called  their  pro- 
vincial champion  'the  courageous  Cerizet,'  and  towards  1828 
so  much  zeal  received  its  reward  in  'general  interest.' 

"  'General  interest'  is  a  kind  of  civic  crown  bestowed  on  the 
deserving  by  the  daily  press.  Cerizet  tried  to  discount  the 
'general  interest'  taken  in  him.  He  came  to  Paris,  and,  with 
some  help  from  capitalists  in  the  Opposition,  started  as  a 
broker,  and  conducted  financial  operations  to  some  extent,  the 
capita]  being  found  by  a  man  in  hiding,  a  skilful  gambler  who 
overreached  himself,  and  in  consequence,  in  July  1830,  his 
capital  foundered  in  the  shipwreck  of  the  Government.'"' 


256  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

"Oh!  it  was  he  whom  we  used  to  call  the  System/'  cried 
Bixiou. 

"Say  no  harm  of  him,  poor  fellow,"  protested  Malaga. 
"D'Estourny  was  a  good  sort." 

"You  can  imagine  the  part  that  a  ruined  man  was  sure  to 
play  in  1830  when  his  name  in  politics  was  'the  courageous 
Cerizet."  He  was  sent  off  into  a  very  snug  little  sub-prefec- 
ture. Unluckily  for  him,  it  is  one  thing  to  be  in  opposition — 
any  missile  is  good  enough  to  throw,  so  long  as  the  fight  lasts ; 
but  quite  another  to  be  in  office.  Three  months  later,  he  was 
obliged  to  send  in  his  resignation.  Had  he  not  taken  it  into 
his  head  to  attempt  to  win  popularity?  Still,  as  he  had 
done  nothing  as  yet  to  imperil  his  title  of  'courageous  Cerizet/ 
the  Government  proposed  by  way  of  compensation  that  he 
should  manage  a  newspaper;  nominally  an  Opposition  paper, 
but  Ministerialist  in  petto.  So  the  fall  of  this  noble  nature  was 
really  due  to  the  Government.  To  Cerizet,  as  manager  of*the 
paper,  it  was  rather  too  evident  that  he  was  as  a  bird  perched 
on  a  rotten  bough ;  and  then  it  was  that  he  promoted  that  nice 
little  joint-stock  company,  and  thereby  secured  a  couple  of 
years  in  prison;  he  was  caught,  while  more  ingenious  swin- 
dlers succeeded  in  catching  the  public." 

"We  are  acquainted  with  the  more  ingenious,"  said  Bixiou ; 
"let  us  say  no  ill  of  the  poor  fellow ;  he  was  nabbed ;  Couture 
allowed  them  to  squeeze  his  cash-box;  who  would  ever  have 
thought  it  of  him  ?" 

"At  all  events,  Cerizet  was  a  low  sort  of  fellow,  a  good  deal 
damaged  by  low  debauchery.  Now  for  the  duel  I  spoke  about. 
Never  did  two  tradesmen  of  the  worst  type,  with  the  worst 
manners,  the  lowest  pair  of  villains  imaginable,  go  into  part- 
nership in  a  dirtier  business.  Their  stock-in-trade  consisted 
of  the  peculiar  idiom  of  the  man  about  town,  the  audacity  of 
poverty,  the  cunning  that  comes  of  experience,  and  a  special 
knowledge  of  Parisian  capitalists,  their  origin,  connections, 
acquaintances,  and  intrinsic  value.  This  partnership  of  two 
'dabblers'  (let  the  Stock  Exchange  term  pass,  for  it  is  the 
only  word  which  describes  them),  this  partnership  of  dabblers 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  257 

did  not  last  very  long.  They  fought  like  famished  curs  over 
every  bit  of  garbage. 

"The  earlier  speculations  of  the  firm  of  Cerizet  and  Cla- 
paron  were,  however,  well  planned.  The  two  scamps  joined 
forces  with  Barbet,  Chaboisseau,  Samanon,  and  usurers  of 
that  stamp,  and  bought  up  hopelessly  bad  debts. 

"Claparon's  place  of  business  at  that  time  was  a  cramped 
entresol  in  the  Rue  Chabannais — five  rooms  at  a  rent  of  seven 
hundred  francs  at  most.  Each  partner  slept  in  a  little  closet, 
so  carefully  closed  from  prudence,  that  iny  head-clerk  could 
never  get  inside.  The  furniture  of  the  other  three  rooms — 
an  ante-chamber,  a  waiting-room,  and  a  private  office — would 
not  have  fetched  three  hundred  francs  altogether  at  a  distress- 
warrant  sale.  You  know  enough  of  Paris  to  know  the  look 
of  it ;  the  stuffed  horsehair-covered  chairs,  a  table  covered  with 
a  green  cloth,  a  trumpery  clock  between  a  couple  of  candle 
sconces,  growing  tarnished  under  glass  shades,  the  small  gilt- 
framed  mirror  over  the  chimney-piece,  and  in  the  grate  a 
charred  stick  or  two  of  firewood  which  had  lasted  them  for 
two  winters,  as  my  head-clerk  put  it.  As  for  the  office,  you 
can  guess  what  it  was  like — more  letter-files  than  business 
letters,  a  set  of  common  pigeon-holes  for  either  partner,  a 
cylinder  desk,  empty  as  the  cash-box,  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  a  couple  of  armchairs  on  either  side  of  a  coal  fire. 
The  carpet  on  the  floor  was  bought  cheap  at  second-hand  (like 
the  bills  and  bad  debts).  In  short,  it  was  the  mahogany  fur- 
niture of  furnished  apartments  which  usually  descends  from 
one  occupant  of  chambers  to  another  during  fifty  years  of  ser- 
vice. Now  you  know  the  pair  of  antagonists. 

"During  the  first  three  months  of  a  partnership  dissolved 
four  months  later  in  a  bout  of  fisticuffs,  Cerizet  and  Claparon 
bought  up  two  thousand  francs'  worth  of  bills  bearing  Max- 
ime's  signature  (since  Maxime  is  his  name),  and  filled  a 
couple  of  letter  files  to  bursting  with  judgments,  appeals,  or- 
ders of  the  court,  distress-warrant,  application  for  stay  of 
proceedings,  and  all  the  rest  of  it;  to  put  it  briefly,  they  had 
bills  for  three  thousand  two  hundred  francs  odd  centimes,  for 


258  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

which  they  had  given  five  hundred  francs ;  the  transfer  being 
made  under  private  seal,  with  special  power  of  attorney,  to 
save  the  expense  of  registration.  Now  it  so  happened  at  this 
juncture,  Maxime,  being  of  ripe  age,  was  seized  with  one  of 
the  fancies  peculiar  to  the  man  of  fifty " 

"Antonia  !"  exclaimed  La  Palferine.  "That  Antonia  whose 
fortune  I  made  by  writing  to  ask  for  a  toothbrush !" 

"Her  real  name  is  Chocardellc,"  said  Malaga,  not  over  well 
pleased  by  the  fine-sounding  pseudonym. 

"The  same,"  continued  Desroches. 

"It  was  the  only  mistake  Maxime  ever  made  in  his  life. 
But  what  would  you  have,  no  vice  is  absolutely  perfect  ?"  put 
in  Bixiou. 

"Maxime  had  still  to  learn  what  sort  of  a  life  a  man  may 
be  led  into  by  a  girl  of  eighteen  when  she  is  minded  to  take 
a  header  from  her  honest  garret  into  a  sumptuous  carriage ;  it 
is  a  lesson  that  all  statesmen  should  take  to  heart.  At  this 
time,  de  Marsay  had  just  been  employing  his  friend,  our  friend 
de  Trailles,  in  the  high  comedy  of  politics.  Maxime  had 
looked  high  for  his  conquests;  he  had  no  experience  of  un- 
titled  women ;  and  at  fifty  years  he  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to 
take  a  bite  of  a  little  so-called  wild  fruit,  much  as  a  sports- 
man will  halt  under  a  peasant's  apple-tree.  So  the  Count 
found  a  reading-room  for  Mile.  Chocardelle,  a  rather  smart 
little  place  to  be  had  cheap,  as  usual " 

"Pooh !"  said  Xathan.  "She  did  not  stay  in  it  six  months. 
She  was  too  handsome  to  keep  a  reading-room." 

"Perhaps  you  are  the  father  of  her  child?"  suggested  the 
lorette. 

Desroches  resumed. 

"Since  the  firm  bought  up  Maxime's  debts,  Cerizet's  like- 
ness to  a  bailiff's  officer  grew  more  and  more  striking,  and 
one  morning  after  seven  fruitless  attempts  he  succeeded  in 
penetrating  into  the  Count's  presence.  Suzon,  the  old  man- 
servant, albeit  he  was  by  no  means  in  his  novitiate,  at  last 
mistook  the  visitor  for  a  petitioner,  come  to  propose  a  thou- 
sand crowns  if  Maxime  would  obtain  a  license  to  sell  postage 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  259 

stamps  for  a  young  lady.  Suzon,  without  the  slightest  sus- 
picion of  the  little  scamp,  a  thoroughbred  Paris  street-boy 
into  whom  prudence  had  been  rubbed  by  repeated  personal  ex- 
perience of  the  police-courts,  induced  his  master  to  receive 
him.  Can  you  see  the  man  of  business,  with  an  uneasy  eye, 
a  bald  forehead,  and  scarcely  any  hair  on  his  head,  standing 
in  his  threadbare  jacket  and  muddy  boots " 

"What  a  picture  of  a  Dun!"  cried  Lousteau. 

" standing  before  the  Count,  that  image  of  flaunting 

Debt,  in  his  blue  flannel  dressing-gown,  slippers  worked  by 
some  Marquise  or  other,  trousers  of  white  woolen  stuff,  and 
a  dazzling  shirt?  There  he  stood,  with  a  gorgeous  cap  on 
his  black  dyed  hair,  playing  with  the  tassels  at  his  waist " 

"  'Tis  a  bit  of  genre  for  anybody  who  knows  the  pretty  little 
morning  room,  hung  with  silk  and  full  of  valuable  paintings, 
where  Maxime  breakfasts,"  said  Nathan.  "You  tread  on  a 
Smyrna  carpet,  you  admire  the  sideboards  filled  with  curiosi- 
ties and  rarities  fit  to  make  a  King  of  Saxony  envious " 

"Now  for  the  scene  itself,"  said  Desroches,  and  the  deep- 
est silence  followed. 

"  'Monsieur  le  Comte,'  began  Cerizet,  'I  have  come  from  a 
M.  Charles  Claparon,  who  used  to  be  a  banker ' 

"  'Ah !  poor  devil,  and  what  does  he  want  with  me  ?' 

"  'Well,  he  is  at  present  your  creditor  for  a  matter  of  three 
thousand  two  hundred  francs,  seventy-five  centimes,  princi- 
pal, interest,  and  costs " 

"  'Coutelier's  business  ?'  put  in  Maxime,  who  knew  his  af- 
fairs as  a  pilot  knows  his  coast. 

"  'Yes,  Monsieur  le  Comte,'  said  Cerizet  with  a  bow.  1 
have  come  to  ask  your  intentions.' 

"  'I  shall  only  pay  when  the  fancy  takes  me/  returned 
Maxime,  and  he  rang  for  Suzon.  'It  was  very  rash  of  Cla- 
paron to  buy  up  bills  of  mine  without  speaking  to  me  before- 
hand. I  am  sorry  for  him,  for  he  did  so  very  well  for  such  a 
long  time  as  a  man  of  straw  for  friends  of  mine.  I  always 
said  that  a  man  must  really  be  weak  in  his  intellect  to  work 

for  men  that  stuff  themselves  with  millions,  and  to  serve  them 
VOL.   16—48 


260  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

so  faithfully  for  such  low  wages.  And  now  here  he  gives  me 
another  proof  of  his  stupidity !  Yes,  men  deserve  what  they 
get.  It  is  your  own  doing  whether  you  get  a  crown  on  your 
forehead  or  a  bullet  through  your  head;  whether  you  are  a 
millionaire  or  a  porter,  justice  is  always  done  you.  I  cannot 
help  it,  my  dear  fellow ;  I  myself  am  not  a  king,  I  stick  to  my 
principles.  I  have  no  pity  for  those  that  put  me  to  expense 
or  do  not  know  their  business  as  creditors. — Suzon !  my  tea ! 
Do  you  see  this  gentleman  ?'  he  continued  when  the  man  came 
in.  'Well,  you  have  allowed  yourself  to  be  taken  in,  poor  old 
boy.  This  gentleman  is  a  creditor ;  you  ought  to  have  known 
him  by  his  boots.  No  friend  nor  foe  of  mine,  nor  those  that 
are  neither  and  want  something  of  me,  come  to  see  me  on  foot. 
— My  dear  M.  Cerizet,  do  you  understand?  You  will  not 
wipe  your  boots  on  my  carpet  again'  (looking  as  he  spoke  at 
the  mud  that  whitened  the  enemy's  soles).  'Convey  my  com- 
pliments and  sympathy  to  Claparon,  poor  buffer,  for  I  shall 
file  this  business  under  the  letter  Z.' 

"All  this  with  an  easy  good-humor  fit  to  give  a  virtuous 
citizen  the  colic. 

"  'You  are  wrong,  Monsieur  le  Comte,'  retorted  Cerizet,  in 
a  slightly  peremptory  tone.  'We  will  be  paid  in  full,  and  that 
in  a  way  which  you  may  not  like.  That  was  why  I  came  to 
you  first  in  a  friendly  spirit,  as  is  right  and  fit  between  gen- 
tlemen  ' 

"  'Oh !  so  that  is  how  you  understand  it  ?'  began  Maxime, 
enraged  by  this  last  piece  of  presumption.  There  was  some- 
thing of  Talleyrand's  wit  in  the  insolent  retort,  if  you  have 
quite  grasped  the  contrast  between  the  two  men  and  their 
costumes.  Maxime  scowled  and  looked  full  at  the  intruder; 
Cerizet  not  merely  endured  the  glare  of  cold  fury,  but  even 
returned  it,  with  an  icy,  cat-like  malignance  and  fixity  of  gaze. 

"  'Very  good,  sir,  go  out ' 

"  'Very  well,  good-day,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  We  shall  be 
quits  before  six  months  are  out.' 

"  'If  you  can  steal  the  amount  of  your  bill,  which  is  legally 
due  I  own,  I  shall  be  indebted  to  you,  sir,'  replied  Maxime. 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  261 

'You  will  have  taught  me  a  new  precaution  to  take.  I  am  very 
much  your  servant.' 

"  'Monsieur  le  Comte,'  said  Cerizet,  'it  is  I,  on  the  con- 
trary, who  am  yours.' 

"Here  was  an  explicit,  forcible,  confident  declaration  on 
either  side.  A  couple  of  tigers  confabulating,  with  the  prey 
before  them,  and  a  fight  impending,  would  have  been  no  finer 
and  no  shrewder  than  this  pair;  the  insolent  fine  gentleman 
as  great  a  blackguard  as  the  other  in  his  soiled  and  mud- 
stained  clothes. 

"Which  will  you  lay  your  money  on?"  asked  Desroches, 
looking  round  at  an  audience,  surprised  to  find  how  deeply  it 
was  interested. 

"A  pretty  story  I"  cried  Malaga.  "My  dear  boy,  go  on,  I 
beg  of  you.  This  goes  to  one's  heart." 

"Nothing  commonplace  could  happen  between  two  fighting- 
cocks  of  that  calibre,"  added  La  Palferine. 

"Pooh !"  cried  Malaga,  "I  will  wager  my  cabinet-maker's 
invoice  (the  fellow  is  dunning  me)  that  the  little  toad  was 
too  many  for  Maxime." 

"I  bet  on  Maxime,"  said  Cardot.  "Nobody  ever  caught 
him  napping." 

Desroches  drank  off  a  glass  that  Malaga  handed  to  him. 

"Mile.  Chocardelle's  reading-room,"  he  continued,  after  a 
pause,  "was  in  the  Eue  Coquenard,  just  a  step  or  two  from 
the  Rue  Pigalle  where  Maxime  was  living.  The  said  Mile. 
Chocardelle  lived  at  the  back  on  the  garden  side  of  the  house, 
beyond  a  big,  dark  place  where  the  books  were  kept.  Antonia 
left  her  aunt  to  look  after  the  business " 

"Had  she  an  aunt  even  then?"  exclaimed  Malaga.  "Hang 
it  all,  Maxime  did  things  handsomely." 

"Alas !  it  was  a  real  aunt,"  said  Desroches ;  "her  name  was 
— let  me  see " 

"Ida  Bonamy/'  said  Bixiou. 

"So  as  Antonia's  aunt  took  a  good  deal  of  the  work  off  her 
hands,  she  went  to  bed  late  and  lay  late  of  a  morning,  never 
showing  her  face  at  the  desk  until  the  afternoon,  some  time 


262  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

between  two  and  four.  From  the  very  first  her  appearance 
was  enough  to  draw  custom.  Several  elderly  men  in  the  quar- 
ter used  to  come,  among  them  a  retired  coach-builder,  one 
Croizeau.  Beholding  this  miracle  of  female  loveliness 
through  the  window-panes,  he  took  it  into  his  head  to  read 
the  newspapers  in  the  beauty's  reading-room ;  and  a  sometime 
custom-house  officer,  named  Denisart,  with  a  ribbon  in  his 
button-hole,  followed  the  example.  Croizeau  chose  to  look 
upon  Denisart  as  a  rival.  'Mosieur'  he  said  afterwards,  'I 
did  not  know  what  to  buy  for  you !' 

"That  speech  should  give  you  an  idea  of  the  man.  The 
Sieur  Croizeau  happens  to  belong  to  a  particular  class  of  old 
man  which  should  be  known  as  'Coquerels'  since  Henri  Mou- 
rner's time;  so  well  did  Monnier  render  the  piping  voice,  the 
little  mannerisms,  little  queue,  little  sprinkling  of  powder, 
little  movements  of  the  head,  prim  little  manner,  and  tripping 
gait  in  the  part  of  Coquerel  in  La  Famille  Improvisee.  This 
Croizeau  used  to  hand  over  his  halfpence  with  a  flourish  and  a 
'There,  fair  lady !' 

"Mme.  Ida  Bonamy  the  aunt  was  not  long  in  finding  out 
through  the  servant  that  Croizeau,  by  popular  report  of  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Rue  de  Buffault,  where  he  lived,  was  u 
man  of  exceeding  stinginess,  possessed  of  forty  thousand 
francs  per  annum.  A  week  after  the  instalment  of  the  charm- 
ing librarian  he  was  delivered  of  a  pun : 

"'You  lend  me  books  (livres),  but  I  give  you  plenty  of 
francs  in  return,'  said  he. 

"A  few  days  later  he  put  on  a  knowing  little  air,  as  much 
as  to  say,  'I  know  you  are  engaged,  but  my  turn  will  come  one 
day;  I  am  a  widower.' 

"He  always  came  arrayed  in  fine  linen,  a  cornflower  blue 
coat,  a  paduasoy  waistcoat,  black  trousers,  and  black  ribbon 
bows  on  the  double  soled  shoes  that  creaked  like  an  abbe's ;  he 
always  held  a  fourteen  franc  silk  hat  in  his  hand. 

"  'I  am  old  and  I  have  no  children,'  he  took  occasion  to 
confide  to  the  young  lady  some  few  days  after  Cerizet's  visit  to 
Maxime.  'I  hold  my  relations  in  horror.  They  are  peasants 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  263 

born  to  work  in  the  fields.  Just  imagine  it,  I  came  up  from 
the  country  with  six  francs  in  my  pocket,  and  made  my  for- 
tune here.  I  am  not  proud.  A  pretty  woman  is  my  equal. 
Xow  would  it  not  be  nicer  to  be  Mme.  Croizeau  for  some  years 
to  come  than  to  do  a  Count's  pleasure  for  a  twelvemonth  ?  He 
will  go  off  and  leave  you  some  time  or  other;  and  when  that 
day  comes,  you  will  think  of  me  .  .  .  your  servant,  my 
pretty  lady !' 

"All  this  was  simmering  below  the  surface.  The  slightest 
approach  at  love-making  was  made  quite  on  the  sly.  Not  a 
soul  suspected  that  the  trim  little  old  fogy  was  smitten  with 
Antonia;  and  so  prudent  was  the  elderly  lover,  that  no  rival 
could  have  guessed  anything  from  his  behavior  in  the  reading- 
room.  For  a  couple  of  months  Croizeau  watched  the  retired 
custom-house  official;  but  before  the  third  month  was  out  he 
had  good  reason  to  believe  that  his  suspicions  were  groundless. 
He  exerted  his  ingenuity  to  scrape  an  acquaintance  with  De- 
nisart,  came  up  with  him  in  the  street,  and  at  length  seized  his 
opportunity  to  remark,  'It  is  a  fine  day,  sir!' 

"Whereupon  the  retired  official  responded  with,  'Austerlitz 
weather,  sir.  I  was  there  myself — I  was  wounded  indeed,  I 
won  my  Cross  on  that  glorious  day/ 

"And  so  from  one  thing  to  another  the  two  drifted  wrecks 
of  the  Empire  struck  up  an  acquaintance.  Little  Croizeau 
was  attached  to  the  Empire  through  his  connection  with  Na- 
poleon's sisters.  He  had  been  their  coach-builder,  and  had 
frequently  dunned  them  for  money;  so  he  gave  out  that  he 
'had  had  relations  with  the  Imperial  family/  Maxime,  duly 
informed  by  Antonia  of  the  'nice  old  man's'  proposals  (for  so 
the  aunt  called  Croizeau),  wished  to  see  him.  Cerizet's  de- 
claration of  war  had  so  far  taken  effect  that  he  of  the  yellow 
kid  gloves  was  studying  the  position  of  every  piece,  however 
insignificant,  upon  the  board;  and  it  so  happened  that  at 
the  mention  of  that  'nice  old  man/  an  ominous  tinkling 
sounded  in  his  ears.  One  evening,  therefore,  Maxime  seated 
himself  among  the  book-shelves  in  the  dimly  lighted  back 
room,  reconnoitred  the  seven  or  eight  customers  through  the 


264  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

chink  between  the  green  curtains,  and  took  the  little  coach- 
builder's  measure.  He  gauged  the  man's  infatuation,  and 
was  very  well  satisfied  to  find  that  the  varnished  doors  of  a 
tolerably  sumptuous  future  were  ready  to  turn  at  a  word 
from  Antonia  so  soon  as  his  own  fancy  had  passed  off. 

"  'And  that  other  one  yonder  ?'  asked  he,  pointing  out  the 
stout  fine-looking  elderly  man  with  the  Cross  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor.  'Who  is  he?' 

"  'A  retired  custom-house  officer.' 

"  'The  cut  of  his  countenance  is  not  reassuring/  said  Max- 
ime,  beholding  the  Sieur  Denisart. 

"And  indeed  the  old  soldier  held  himself  upright  as  a 
steeple.  His  head  was  remarkable  for  the  amount  of  powder 
and  pomatum  bestowed  upon  it;  he  looked  almost  like  a  pos- 
tilion at  a  fancy  ball.  Underneath  that  felted  covering, 
moulded  to  the  top  of  the  wearer's  cranium,  appeared  an  eld- 
erly profile,  half-official,  half-soldierly,  with  a  comical  ad- 
mixture of  arrogance, — altogether  something  like  caricatures 
of  the  Constitutionnel.  The  sometime  official  finding  that 
age,  and  hair-powder,  and  the  conformation  of  his  spine  made 
it  impossible  to  read  a  word  without  spectacles,  sat  dis- 
playing a  very  creditable  expanse  of  chest  with  all  the  pride 
of  nn  old  man  with  a  mistress.  Like  old  General  Montcornet, 
that  pillar  of  the  Vaudeville,  he  wore  earrings.  Denisart  was 
partial  to  blue;  his  roomy  trousers  and  well-worn  greatcoat 
were  both  of  blue  cloth. 

"  'How  long  is  it  since  that  old  fogy  came  here  ?'  inquired 
Maxime,  thinking  that  he  saw  danger  in  the  spectacles. 

"  'Oh,  from  the  beginning,'  returned  Antonia,  'pretty 
nearly  two  months  ago  now.' 

"  'Good,'  said  Maxime  to  himself,  'Cerizet  only  came  to  me 
a  month  ago. — Just  get  him  to  talk/  he  added  in  Antonia's 
ear;  'I  want  to  hear  his  voice.' 

"  'Pshaw/  said  she,  'that  is  not  so  easy.  He  never  says  a 
word  to  me.' 

"  'Then  why  does  he  come  here  ?'  demanded  Maxime. 

"  'For  a  queer  reason/  returned  the  fair  Antonia.  'In  the 
first  place,  although  he  is  sixty-nine,  he  has  a  fancy;  and  be- 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  26,^ 

cause  he  is  sixty-nine,  he  is  as  methodical  as  a  clock  face. 
Every  day  at  five  o'clock  the  old  gentleman  goes  to  dine  with 
her  in  the  Rue  de  la  Victoire.  (I  am  sorry  for  her.)  Then 
at  six  o'clock,  he  comes  here,  reads  steadily  at  the  papers  for 
four  hours,  and  goes  back  at  ten  o'clock.  Daddy  Croizeau  says 
that  he  knows  M.  Denisart's  motives,  and  approves  his  con- 
duct; and  in  his  place,  he  would  do  the  same.  So  I  know 
exactly  what  to  expect.  If  ever  I  am  Mme.  Croizeau,  I  shall 
have  four  hours  to  myself  between  six  and  ten  o'clock.' 

"Maxime  looked  through  the  directory,  and  found  the  fol- 
lowing reassuring  item: 

"  DENISART,*  retired  custom-house  officer,  Rue  de  la  Victoire. 

"His  uneasiness  vanished. 

"Gradually  the  Sieur  Denisart  and  the  Sieur  Croizeau  be- 
gan to  exchange  confidences.  Nothing  so  binds  two  men  to- 
gether as  a  similarity  of  views  in  the  matter  of  womankind. 
Daddy  Croizeau  went  to  dine  with  'M.  Denisart's  fair  lady,' 
as  he  called  her.  And  here  I  must  make  a  somewhat  impor- 
tant observation. 

"The  reading-room  had  been  paid  for  half  in  cash,  half  in 
bills  signed  by  the  said  Mile.  Chocardelle.  The  quart  d'heure 
de  Rabelais  arrived;  the  Count  had  no  money.  So  the  first 
bill  of  three  thousand-franc  bills  was  met  by  the  amiable 
coach-builder;  that  old  scoundrel  Denisart  having  recom- 
mended him  to  secure  himself  with  a  mortgage  on  the  reading- 
,  room. 

"  'For  my  own  part,'  said  Denisart,  'I  have  seen  pretty 
doings  from  pretty  women.  So,  in  all  cases,  even  when  I 
have  lost  my  head,  I  am  always  on  my  guard  with  a  woman. 
There  is  this  creature,  for  instance;  I  am  madly  in  love  with 
her;  but  this  is  not  her  furniture;  no,  it  belongs  to  me.  The 
lease  is  taken  out  in  my  name.' 

"You  know  Maxime!  He  thought  the  coach-builder  un- 
commonly green.  Croizeau  might  pay  all  three  bills,  and  get 
nothing  for  a  long  while;  for  Maxime  felt  more  infatuated 
with  Antonia  than  ever/' 


266  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

"I  can  well  believe  it,"  said  La  Palferine.  "She  is  the 
bella  Imperia  of  our  day." 

"With  her  rough  skin !"  exclaimed  Malaga ;  "so  rough,  that 
she  ruins  herself  in  bran  baths !" 

"Croizeau  spoke  with  a  coach-builder's  admiration  of  the 
sumptuous  furniture  provided  by  the  amorous  Denisart  as  a 
setting  for  his  fair  one,  describing  it  all  in  detail  with  dia- 
bolical complacency  for  Antonia's  benefit,"  continued  Des- 
roches.  "The  ebony  chests  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl  and 
gold  wire,  the  Brussels  carpets,  a  medieval  bedstead  worth 
three  thousand  francs,  a  Boule  clock,  candelabra  in  the  four 
corners  of  the  dining-room,  silk  curtains,  on  which  Chinese 
patience  had  wrought  pictures  of  birds,  and  hangings  over 
the  doors,  worth  more  than  the  portress  that  opened  them. 

"  'And  that  is  what  you  ought  to  have,  my  pretty  lady. — 
And  that  is  what  I  should  like  to  offer  you/  he  would  con- 
clude. 'I  am  quite  aware  that  you  scarcely  care  a  bit  about 
me;  but,  at  my  age,  we  cannot  expect  too  much.  Judge  how 
much  I  love  you ;  I  have  lent  you  a  thousand  francs.  I  must 
confess  that,  in  all  my  born  days,  I  have  not  lent  anybody  that 
much ' 

"He  held  out  his  penny  as  he  spoke,  with  the  important  air 
of  a  man  that  gives  a  learned  demonstration. 

"That  evening  at  the  Varietes,  Antonia  spoke  to  the  Count. 

"  'A  reading-room  is  very  dull,  all  the  same,'  said  she ;  'I 
feel  that  I  have  no  sort  of  taste  for  that  kind  of  life,  and  I 
see  no  future  in  it.  It  is  only  fit  for  a  widow  that  wishes  to 
keep  body  and  soul  together,  or  for  some  hideously  ugly  thing 
that  fancies  she  can  catch  a  husband  with  a  little  finery.' 

"  'It  was  your  own  choice,'  returned  the  Count.  Just  at 
that  moment,  in  came  Nucingen,  of  whom  Maxime,  king  of 
lions  (the  'yellow  kid  gloves'  were  the  lions  of  that  day)  had 
won  three  thousand  francs  the  evening  before.  Nucingen 
had  come  to  pay  his  gaming  debt. 

"  *Ein  writ  of  attachment  haf  shoost  peen  served  on  me  by 
der  order  of  dot  teufel  Glabaron,'  he  said,  seeing  Maxime's 
astonishment. 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  267 

"  'Oh,  so  that  is  how  they  are  going  to  work,  is  it  ?'  cried 
Maxime.  'They  are  not  up  to  much,  that  pair ' 

"  'It  makes  not/  said  the  banker,  'bay  dem,  for  dey  may 
apply  demselfs  to  oders  pesides,  und  do  you  harm.  I  dake 
dees  bretty  voman  to  vitness  dot  I  haf  baid  you  dees  morning, 
long  pefore  dat  writ  vas  serfed.' '' 

"Queen  of  the  boards,"  smiled  La  Palferine,  looking  at 
Malaga,  "thou  art  about  to  lo?e  thy  bet." 

"Once,  a  long  time  ago,  in  a  similar  case,"  resumed  Des- 
roches,  "a  too  honest  debtor  took  fright  at  the  idea  of  a  solemn 
declaration  in  a  court  of  law,  and  declined  to  pay  Maxime 
after  notice  was  given.  That  time  we  made  it  hot  for  the 
creditor  by  piling  on  writs  of  attachment,  so  as  to  absorb  the 
whole  amount  in  costs " 

"Oh,  what  is  that  ?"  cried  Malaga ;  "it  all  sounds  like  gib- 
berish to  me.  As  you  thought  the  sturgeon  so  excellent  at 
dinner,  let  me  take  out  the  value  of  the  sauce  in  lessons  in 
chicanery." 

"Very  well,"  said  Desroches.  "Suppose  that  a  man  owes 
you  money,  and  your  creditors  serve  a  writ  of  attachment  upon 
him ;  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  all  your  other  creditors  from 
doing  the  same  thing.  And  now  what  does  the  court  do  when 
all  the  creditors  make  application  for  orders  to  pay?  The 
court  divides  the  whole  sum  attached,  proportionately  among 
them  all.  That  division,  made  under  the  eye  of  a  magistrate, 
is  what  we  call  a  contribution.  If  you  owe  ten  thousand 
francs,  and  your  creditors  issue  writs  of  attachment  on  a  debt 
due  to  you  of  a  thousand  francs,  each  one  of  them  gets  so 
much  per  cent,  'so  much  in  the  pound/  in  legal  phrase;  so 
much  (that  means)  in  proportion  to  the  amounts  severally 
claimed  by  the  creditors.  But — the  creditors  cannot  touch  the 
money  without  a  special  order  from  the  clerk  of  the  court.  Do 
you  guess  what  all  this  work  drawn  up  by  a  judge  and  pre- 
pared by  attorneys  must  mean?  It  means  a  quantity  of 
stamped  paper  full  of  diffuse  lines  and  blanks,  the  figures 
almost  lost  in  vast  spaces  of  completely  empty  ruled  columns. 
The  first  proceeding  is  to  deduct  the  costs.  Now,  as  the  costs 


268  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

are  precisely  the  same  whether  the  amount  attached  is  one 
thousand  or  one  million  francs,  it  is  not  difficult  to  eat  up 
three  thousand  francs  (for  instance)  in  costs,  especially  if 
you  can  manage  to  raise  counter  applications." 

"And  an  attorney  always  manages  to  do  it,"  said  Cardot. 
"How  many  a  time  one  of  you  has  come  to  me  with,  'What  is 
there  to  be  got  out  of  the  case  ?' " 

"It  is  particularly  easy  to  manage  it  if  the  debtor  eggs  you 
on  to  run  up  costs  till  they  eat  up  the  amount.  And,  as  a 
rule,  the  Count's  creditors  took  nothing  by  that  move,  and 
were  out  of  pocket  in  law  and  personal  expenses.  To  get 
money  out  of  so  experienced  a  debtor  as  the  Count,  a  creditor 
should  really  be  in  a  position  uncommonly  difficult  to  reach; 
it  is  a  question  of  being  creditor  and  debtor  both,  for  then  you 
are  legally  entitled  to  work  the  confusion  of  rights,  in  law 
language " 

"To  the  confusion  of  the  debtor?"  asked  Malaga,  lending 
an  attentive  ear  to  this  discourse. 

"No,  the  confusion  of  rights  of  debtor  and  creditor,  and  pay 
yourself  through  your  own  hands.  So  Claparon's  innocence 
in  merely  issuing  writs  of  attachment  eased  the  Count's  mind. 
As  he  came  back  from  the  Varietes  with  Antonia,  he  was 
so  much  the  more  taken  with  the  idea  of  selling  the  reading- 
room  to  pay  off  the  last  two  thousand  francs  of  the  purchase- 
money,  because  he  did  not  care  to  have  his  name  made  public 
as  a  partner  in  such  a  concern.  So  he  adopted  Antonia's  plan. 
Antonia  wished  to  reach  the  higher  ranks  of  her  calling,  with 
splendid  rooms,  a  maid,  and  a  carriage;  in  short,  she  wanted 
to  rival  our  charming  hostess,  for  instance — 

"She  was  not  woman  enough  for  that,"  cried  the  famous 
beauty  of  the  Circus;  "still,  she  ruined  young  d'Esgrignon 
very  neatly." 

"Ten  days  afterwards,  little  Croizeau,  perched  on  his  dig- 
nity, said  almost  exactly  the  same  thing,  for  the  fair  Antonia's 
benefit,"  continued  Desroches. 

"  'Child,'  said  he,  'your  reading-room  is  a  hole  of  a  place. 
You  will  lose  your  complexion;  the  gas  will  ruin  your  eye- 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  269 

sight.  You  ought  to  come  out  of  it ;  and,  look  here,  let  us  take 
advantage  of  an  opportunity.  I  have  found  a  young  lady  for 
you  that  asks  no  better  than  to  buy  your  reading-room.  She  is 
a  ruined  woman  with  nothing  before  her  but  a  plunge  into 
the  river)  but  she  has  four  thousand  francs  in  cash,  and  the 
best  thing  to  do  is  to  turn  them  to  account,  so  as  to  feed  and 
educate  a  couple  of  children.' 

"  'Very  well.  It  is  kind  of  you,  Daddy  Croizeau,'  said  An- 
tonia. 

"  'Oh,  I  shall  be  much  kinder  before  I  have  done.  Just 
imagine  it,  poor  M.  Denisart  has  been  worried  into  the  jaun- 
dice !  Yes,  it  has  gone  to  the  liver,  as  it  usually  does  with 
susceptible  old  men.  It  is  a  pity  he  feels  things  so.  I  told 
him  so  myself;  1  said,  "Be  passionate,  there  is  no  harm  in 
that,  but  as  for  taking  things  to  heart — draw  the  line  at  that ! 
It  is  the  way  to  kill  yourself." — Eeally,  I  would  not  have 
expected  him  to  take  on  so  about  it;  a  man  that  has  sense 
enough  and  experience  enough  to  keep  away  as  he  does  while 
he  digests  his  dinner ' 

"  'But  what  is  the  matter  ?'  inquired  Mile.  Chocardelle. 

"  'That  little  baggage  with  whom  I  dined  has  cleared  out 
and  left  him !  .  .  .  Yes.  Gave  him  the  slip  without  any 
warning  but  a  letter,  in  which  the  spelling  was  all  to  seek.' 

"  'There,  Daddy  Croizeau,  you  see  what  comes  of  boring  a 
woman ' 

"  'It  is  indeed  a  lesson,  my  pretty  lady,'  said  the  guileful 
Croizeau.  'Meanwhile,  I  have  never  seen  a  man  in  such  a 
state.  Our  friend  Denisart  cannot  tell  his  le^t  hand  from 
his  right;  he  will  not  go  back  to  look  at  the  "scene  of  his  hap- 
piness," as  he  calls  it.  He  has  so  thoroughly  lost  his  wits,  that 
he  proposes  that  I  should  buy  all  Hortense's  furniture  (Hor- 
tense  was  her  name)  for  four  thousand  francs.' 

"  'A  pretty  name,'  said  Antonia. 

"  'Yes.  Napoleon's  stepdaughter  was  called  Hortense.  I 
built  carriages  for  her,  as  you  know.' 

"  'Very  well,  I  will  see,'  said  cunning  Antonia ;  'begin  by 
sending  this  young  woman  to  me.' 


270  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

"Antonia  hurried  off  to  see  the  furniture,  and  came  back 
fascinated.  She  brought  Maxime  under  the  spell  of  anti- 
quarian enthusiasm.  That  very  evening  the  Count  agreed  to 
the  sale  of  the  reading-room.  The  establishment,  you  see, 
nominally  belonged  to  Mile.  Chocardelle.  Maxime  burst  out 
laughing  at  the  idea  of  little  Croizeau's  finding  him  a  buyer. 
The  firm  of  Maxime  and  Chocardelle  was  losing  two  thousand 
francs,  it  is  true,  but  what  was  the  loss  compared  with  four 
glorious  thousand-franc  notes  in  hand?  'Four  thousand 
francs  of  live  coin  ! — there  are  moments  in  one's  life  when  one 
would  sign  bills  for  eight  thousand  to  get  them/  as  the  Count 
said  to  me. 

"Two  days  later  the  Count  must  see  the  furniture  himself, 
and  took  the  four  thousand  francs  upon  him.  The  sale  had 
been  arranged ;  thanks  to  little  Croizeau's  diligence,  he  pushed 
matters  on;  he  had  'come  round'  the  widow,  as  he  expressed 
it.  It  was  Maxime's  intention  to  have  all  the  furniture  re- 
moved at  once  to  a  lodging  in  a  new  house  in  the  Rue  Tron- 
chet,  taken  in  the  name  oi  Mme.  Ida  Bonamy;  he  did  not 
trouble  himself  much  about  the  nice  old  man  that  was  about 
to  lose  his  thousand  francs.  But  he  had  sent  beforehand  for 
several  big  furniture  vans. 

"Once  again  he  was  fascinated  by  the  beautiful  furniture 
which  a  wholesale  dealer  would  have  valued  at  six  thousand 
francs.  By  the  fireside  sat  the  wretched  owner,  yellow  with 
jaundice,  his  head  tied  up  in  a  couple  of  printed  handker- 
chiefs, and  a  cotton  night-cap  on  the  top  of  them ;  he  was 
huddled  up  in  wrappings  like  a  chandelier,  exhausted,  unable 
to  speak,  and  altogether  so  knocked  to  pieces  that  the  Count 
was  obliged  to  transact  his  business  with  the  man-servant. 
When  he  had  paid  down  the  four  thousand  francs,  and  the 
servant  had  taken  the  money  to  his  master  for  a  receipt,  Max- 
ime turned  to  tell  the  man  to  call  up  the  vans  to  the  door ;  but 
even  as  he  spoke,  a  voice  like  a  rattle  sounded  in  his  ears. 

"  'It  is  not  worth  while,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  You  and  I  are 
quits;  I  have  six  hundred  and  thirty  francs  fifteen  centimes 
to  give  you !' 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  271 

"To  his  utter  consternation,  he  saw  Cerizet,  emerged  from 
his  wrappings  like  a  butterfly  from  the  chrysalis,  holding  out 
the  accursed  bundle  of  documents. 

"  'When  I  was  down  on  my  luck,  I  learned  to  act  on  the 
stage,'  added  Cerizet.  'I  am  as  good  as  Bouffe  at  old  men/ 

"  'I  have  fallen  among  thieves !'  shouted  Maxime. 

"  'No,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  you  are  in  Mile.  Hortense's 
house.  She  is  a  friend  of  old  Lord  Dudley's;  he  keeps  her 
hidden  away  here ;  but  she  has  the  bad  taste  to  like  your  hum- 
ble servant.' 

"  'If  ever  I  longed  to  kill  a  man,'  so  the  Count  told  me 
afterwards,  'it  was  at  that  moment;  but  what  could  one  do? 
Hortense  showed  her  pretty  face,  one  had  to  laugh.  To  keep 
my  dignity,  I  flung  her  the  six  hundred  francs.  "There's  for 
the  girl,"  said  I.' " 

"That  is  Maxime  all  over!"  cried  La  Palferine. 

"More  especially  as  it  was  little  Croizeau's  money,"  added 
Cardot  the  profound. 

"Maxime  scored  a  triumph,"  continued  Desroches,  "for 
Hortense  exclaimed,  'Oh !  if  I  had  only  known  that  it  was 
you !' " 

"A  pretty  'confusion'  indeed !"  put  in  Malaga.  "You  have 
lost,  milord,"  she  added,  turning  to  the  notary. 

And  in  this  way  the  cabinetmaker,  to  whom  Malaga  owed  a 
hundred  crowns,  was  paid. 

PARIS,  1845. 


GAUDISSART  II. 

To  Madame  la  Princesse  Cristina  de  Belgiojoso,  nee 
Trivulzio. 

To  know  how  to  sell,  to  be  able  to  sell,  and  to  sell.  People 
generally  do  not  suspect  how  much  of  the  stateliness  of  Paris 
is  due  to  these  three  aspects  of  the  same  problem.  The  brill- 
iant display  of  shops  as  rich  as  the  salons  of  the  noblesse 
before  1789;  the  splendors  of  cafes  which  eclipse,  and  easily 
eclipse,  the  Versailles  of  our  day;  the  shop-window  illusions, 
new  every  morning,  nightly  destroyed ;  the  grace  and  elegance 
of  the  young  men  that  come  in  contact  with  fair  customers; 
the  piquant  faces  and  costumes  of  young  damsels,  who  cannot 
fail  to  attract  the  masculine  customer;  and  (and  this  espe- 
cially of  late)  the  length,  the  vast  spaces,  the  Babylonish 
luxury  of  galleries  where  shopkeepers  acquire  a  monopoly  of 
the  trade  in  various  articles  by  bringing  them  all  together, — 
all  this  is  as  nothing.  Everything,  so  far,  has  been  done  to 
appeal  to  a  single  sense,  and  that  the  most  exacting  and  jaded 
human  faculty,  a  faculty  developed  ever  since  the  days  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  until,  in  our  own  times,  thanks  to  the  efforts 
of  the  most  fastidious  civilization  the  world  has  yet  seen,  its 
demands  are  grown  limitless.  That  faculty  resides  in  the 
"eyes  of  Paris." 

Those  eyes  require  illuminations  costing  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,  and  many-colored  glass  palaces  a  couple  of  miles 
long  and  sixty  feet  high;  they  must  have  a  fairyland  at  some 
fourteen  theatres  every  night,  and  a  succession  of  panoramas 
and  exhibitions  of  the  triumphs  of  art;  for  them  a  whole 
world  of  suffering  and  pain,  and  a  universe  of  joy,  must  re- 
volve through  the  boulevards  or  stray  through  the  streets  of 
Paris;  for  them  encyclopedias  of  carnival  frippery  and  a 

(273) 


274  GAUDISSART  II. 

score  of  illustrated  books  are  brought  out  every  year,  to  say 
nothing  of  caricatures  by  the  hundred,  and  vignettes,  litho- 
graphs, and  prints  by  the  thousand.  To  please  those  eyes, 
fifteen  thousand  francs'  worth  of  gas  must  blaze  every  night ; 
and,  to  conclude,  for  their  delectation  the  great  city  yearly 
spends  several  millions  of  francs  in  opening  up  views  and 
planting  trees.  And  even  yet  this  is  as  nothing — it  is  only 
the  material  side  of  the  question ;  in  truth,  a  mere  trifle  com- 
pared with  the  expenditure  of  brain  power  on  the  shifts, 
worthy  of  Moliere,  invented  by  some  sixty  thousand  assistants 
and  forty  thousand  damsels  of  the  counter,  who  fasten  upon 
the  customer's  purse,  much  as  myriads  of  Seine  whitebait  fall 
upon  a  chance  crust  floating  down  the  river. 

Gaudissart  in  the  mart  is  at  least  the  equal  of  his  illustrious 
namesake,  now  become  the  typical  commercial  traveler.  Take 
him  away  from  his  shop  and  his  line  of  business,  he  is  like  a 
collapsed  balloon;  only  among  his  bales  of  merchandise  do 
his  faculties  return,  much  as  an  actor  is  sublime  only  upon 
the  boards.  A  French  shopman  is  better  educated  than  his 
fellows  in  other  European  countries;  he  can  at  need  talk  as- 
phalt, Bal  Mabille,  polkas,  literature,  illustrated  books,  rail- 
ways, politics,  parliament,  and  revolution ;  transplant 
him,  take  away  his  stage,  his  yardstick,  his  artificial 
graces ;  he  is  foolish  beyond  belief ;  but  on  his  own  boards,  on 
the  tight-rope  of  the  counter,  as  he  displays  a  shawl  with  a 
speech  at  his  tongue's  end,  and  his  eye  on  his  customer,  he 
puts  the  great  Talleyrand  into  the  shade;  he  has  more  wit 
than  a  Desaugiers,  more  wiles  than  Cleopatra;  he  is  a  match 
for  a  Monrose  and  a  Moliere  to  boot.  Talleyrand  in  his  own 
house  would  have  outwitted  Gaudissart,  but  in  the  shop  the 
parts  would  have  been  reversed. 

An  incident  will  illustrate  the  paradox. 

Two  charming  duchesses  were  chatting  with  the  above-men- 
tioned great  diplomatist.  The  ladies  wished  for  a  bracelet; 
they  were  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  a  man  from  a  great  Pa- 
risian jeweler.  A  Gaudissart  accordingly  appeared  with  three 
bracelets  of  marvelous  workmanship.  The  great  ladies  hesi> 


GAUDISSART  II.  275 

tated.  Choice  is  a  mental  lightning  flash;  hesitate — there 
is  no  more  to  be  said,  you  are  at  fault.  Inspiration  in  matters 
of  taste  will  not  come  twice.  At  last,  after  about  ten  minutes, 
the  Prince  was  called  in.  He  saw  the  two  duchesses  confront- 
ing doubt  with  its  thousand  facets,  unable  to  decide  between 
the  transcendent  merits  of  two  of  the  trinkets,  for  the  third 
had  been  set  aside  at  once.  Without  leaving  his  book,  without 
a  glance  at  the  bracelets,  the  Prince  looked  at  the  jeweler's 
assistant. 

"Which  would  you  choose  for  your  sweetheart  ?"  asked  he. 

The  young  man  indicated  one  of  the  pair. 

"In  that  case,  take  the  other,  you  will  make  two  women 
happy,"  said  the  subtlest  of  modern  diplomatists,  "and  make 
your  sweetheart  happy  too,  in  my  name." 

The  two  fair  ladies  smiled,  and  the  young  shopman  took 
his  departure,  delighted  with  the  Prince's  present  and  the 
implied  compliment  to  his  taste. 

A  woman  alights  from  her  splendid  carriage  before  one  of 
the  expensive  shops  where  shawls  are  sold  in  the  Eue  Vivi- 
enne.  She  is  not  alone;  women  almost  always  go  in  pairs  on 
these  expeditions;  always  make  the  round  of  half  a  score  of 
shops  before  they  make  up  their  minds,  and  laugh  together  in 
the  intervals  over  the  little  comedies  played  for  their  benefit. 
Let  us  see  which  of  the  two  acts  most  in  character — the  fair 
customer  or  the  seller,  and  which  has  the  best  of  it  in  such 
miniature  vaudevilles? 

If  you  attempt  to  describe  a  sale,  the  central  fact  of  Pari- 
sian trade,  you  are  in  duty  bound,  if  you  attempt  to  give  the 
gist  of  the  matter,  to  produce  a  type,  and  for  this  purpose  a 
shawl  or  a  chtitelaine  costing  some  three  thousand  francs  is  a 
more  exciting  purchase  than  a  length  of  lawn  or  dress  that 
costs  three  hundred.  But  know,  oh  foreign  visitors  from  the 
Old  World  and  the  New  (if  ever  this  study  of  the  physiology 
of  the  Invoice  should  be  by  you  perused),  that  this  selfsame 
comedy  is  played  in  haberdashers'  shops  over  a  barege  at  two 
francs  or  a  printed  muslin  at  four  francs  the  yard. 

And  you,  princess,  or  simple  citizen's  wife,  whichever  you 
VOL.  iu— 49 


276  GAUDISSAET  II. 

may  be,  how  should  you  distrust  that  good-looking,  very  young 
man,  with  those  frank,  innocent  eyes,  and  a  cheek  like  a  peach 
covered  with  down?  He  is  dressed  almost  as  well  as  your — 
cousin,  let  us  say.  His  tones  are  as  soft  as  the  woolen  stuffs 
which  he  spreads  before  you.  There  are  three  or  four  more  of 
his  like.  One  has  dark  eyes,  a  decided  expression,  and  an 
imperial  manner  of  saying,  "This  is  what  you  wish";  another, 
that  blue-eyed  youth,  diffident  of  manner  and  meek  of  speech, 
prompts  the  remark,  "Poor  boy!  he  was  not  born  for  busi- 
ness"; a  third,  with  light  auburn  hair,  and  laughing  tawny 
eyes,  has  all  the  lively  humor,  and  activity,  and  gaiety  of  the 
South;  while  the  fourth,  he  of  the  tawny  red  hair  and  fan- 
shaped  beard,  is  rough  as  a  communist,  with  his  portentous 
cravat,  his  sternness,  his  dignity,  and  curt  speech. 

These  varieties  of  shopmen,  corresponding  to  the  principal 
types  of  feminine  customers,  are  arms,  as  it  were,  directed 
by  the  head,  a  stout  personage  with  a  full-blown  countenance. 
a  partially  bald  forehead,  and  a  chest  measure  befitting  a 
Ministerialist  deputy.  Occasionally  this  person  wears  the  rib- 
bon of  the  Legion  of  Honor  in  recognition  of  the  manner 
in  which  he  supports  the  dignity  of  the  French  draper's  wand. 
From  the  comfortable  curves  of  his  figure  you  can  see  that  he 
has  a  wife  and  family,  a  country  house,  and  an  account  with 
the  Bank  of  France.  He  descends  like  a  deus  ex  macliina, 
whenever  a  tangled  problem  demands  a  swift  solution.  The 
feminine  purchasers  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  with  urban- 
ity, youth,  pleasant  manners,  smiles,  and  jests;  the  most 
seeming-simple  human  products  of  civilization  are  here,  all 
sorted  in  shades  to  suit  all  tastes. 

Just  one  word  as  to  the  natural  effects  of  architecture,  op- 
tical science,  and  house  decoration;  one  short,  decisive,  ter- 
rible word,  of  history  made  on  the  spot.  The  work  which 
contains  this  instructive  page  is  sold  at  number  76  Rue  de 
Eichelieu,  where  above  an  elegant  shop,  all  white  and  gold 
and  crimson  velvet,  there  is  an  entresol  into  which  the  light 
pours  straight  from  the  Rue  de  Menars,  as  into  a  painter's 
studio — clean,  clear,  even  daylight.  What  idler  in  the  streets 


GAUDISSART  II.  277 

has  not  beheld  the  Persian,  that  Asiatic  potentate,  ruffling 
it  above  the  door  at  the  corner  of  the  Eue  de  la  Bourse  and 
the  Hue  de  Eichelieu,  with  a  message  to  deliver  urbi  et  orbi, 
"Here  I  reign  more  tranquilly  than  at  Lahore"?  Perhaps 
but  for  this  immortal  analytical  study,  archaeologists  might 
begin  to  puzzle  their  heads  about  him  five  hundred  years 
hence,  and  set  about  writing  quartos  with  plates  (like  M. 
Quatremere's  work  on  Olympian  Jove)  to  prove  that  Napoleon 
was  something  of  a  Sofi  in  the  East  before  he  became  "Em- 
peror of  the  French."  Well,  the  wealthy  shop  laid  siege  to 
the  poor  little  entresol ;  and  after  a  bombardment  with  bank- 
notes, entered  and  took  possession.  The  Human  Comedy  gave 
way  before  the  comedy  of  cashmeres.  The  Persian  sacrificed 
a  diamond  or  two  from  his  crown  to  buy  that  so  necessary 
daylight;  for  a  ray  of  sunlight  shows  the  play  of  the  colors, 
brings  out  the  charms  of  a  shawl,  and  doubles  its  value;  'tis 
an  irresistible  light;  literally,  a  golden  ray.  From  this  fact 
you  may  judge  how  far  Paris  shops  are  arranged  with  a  view 
to  effect. 

But  to  return  to  the  young  assistants,  to  the  beribboned 
man  of  forty  whom  the  King  of  the  French  receives  at  his 
table,  to  the  red-bearded  head  of  the  department  with  his 
autocrat's  air.  Week  by  week  these  emeritus  Gaudissarts  are 
brought  in  contact  with  whims  past  counting;  they  know 
every  vibration  of  the  cashmere  chord  in  the  heart  of  woman. 
No  one,  be  she  lady  or  lorette,  a  young  mother  of  a  family, 
a  respectable  tradesman's  wife,  a  woman  of  easy  virtue,  a 
duchess  or  a  brazen-fronted  ballet-dancer,  an  innocent  young 
girl  or  a  too  innocent  foreigner,  can  appear  in  the  shop,  but 
she  is  watched  from  the  moment  when  she  first  lays  her  fin- 
gers upon  the  door-handle.  Her  measure  is  taken  at  a  glance 
by  seven  or  eight  men  that  stand,  in  the  windows,  at  the  coun- 
ter, by  the  door,  in  a  corner,  in  the  middle  of  the  shop,  med- 
itating, to  all  appearance,  on  the  joys  of  a  bacchanalian  Sun- 
day holiday.  As  you  look  at  them,  you  ask  yourself  invol- 
untarily, "What  can  they  be  thinking  about?"  Well,  in  the 
space  of  one  second,  a  woman's  purse,  wishes,  intentions,  and 


278  GAUDISSART  II. 

whims  are  ransacked  more  thoroughly  than  a  traveling  car- 
riage at  a  frontier  in  an  hour  and  three-quarters.  Nothing  is 
lost  on  these  intelligent  rogues.  As  the)'  stand,  solemn  as 
noble  fathers  on  the  stage,  they  take  in  all  the  details  of  a 
fair  customer's  dress;  an  invisible  speck  of  mud  on  a  little 
shoe,  an  antiquated  hat-brim,  soiled  or  ill-judged  bonnet- 
strings,  the  fashion  of  the  dress,  the  age  of  a  pair  of  gloves. 
They  can  tell  whether  the  gown  was  cut  by  the  intelligent 
scissors  of  a  Victorine  IV. ;  they  know  a  modish  gewgaw  or  a 
trinket  from  Froment-Meurice.  Nothing,  in  short,  which  can 
reveal  a  woman's  quality,  fortune,  or  character  passes  unre- 
marked. 

Tremble  before  them.  Never  was  the  Sanhedrim  of  Gaudis- 
sarts,  with  their  chief  at  their  head,  known  to  make  a  mis- 
take. And,  moreover,  they  communicate  their  conclusions  to 
one  another  with  telegraphic  speed,  in  a  glance,  a  smile,  the 
movement  of  a  muscle,  a  twitch  of  the  lip.  If  you  watch 
them,  you  are  reminded  of  the  sudden  outbreak  of  light  along 
the  Champs-filysees  at  dusk;  one  gas-jet  does  not  succeed  an- 
other more  swiftly  than  an  idea  flashes  from  one  shopman's 
eyes  to  the  next. 

At  once,  if  the  lady  is  English,  the  dark,  mysterious,  por- 
tentous Gaudissart  advances  like  a  romantic  character  out  of 
one  of  Byron's  poems. 

If  she  is  a  city  madam,  the  oldest  is  put  forward.  He 
brings  out  a  hundred  shawls  in  fifteen  minutes;  he  turns 
her  head  with  colors  and  patterns ;  every  shawl  that  he  shows 
her  is  like  a  circle  described  by  a  kite  wheeling  round  a  hap- 
less rabbit,  till  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  when  her  head  is 
swimming  and  she  is  utterly  incapable  of  making  a  decision 
for  herself,  the  good  lady,  meeting  with  a  nattering  response 
to  all  her  ideas,  refers  the  question  to  the  assistant,  who 
promptly  leaves  her  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma  betweeji  two 
equally  irresistible  shawls. 

"This,  madame,  is  very  becoming — apple-green,  the  color 
of  the  season;  still,  fashions  change;  while  as  for  this  other 
black-and-white  shawl  (an  opportunity  not  to  be  missed), 


GAUDISSART  II.  279 

you  will  never  see  the  end  of  it,  and  it  will  go  with  any  dress." 

This  is  the  A  B  C  of  the  trade. 

"You  would  not  believe  how  much  eloquence  is  wanted 
in  that  beastly  line/'  the  head  Gaudissart  of  this  particular 
establishment  remarked  quite  lately  to  two  acquaintances 
(Duronceret  and  Bixiou)  who  had  come  trusting  in  his  judg- 
ment to  buy  a  shawl.  "Look  here;  you  are  artists  and  dis- 
creet, I  can  tell  you  about  the  governor's  tricks,  and  of  all 
the  men  I  ever  saw,  he  is  the  cleverest.  I  do  not  mean  as  a 
manufacturer,  there  M.  Fritot  is  first ;  but  as  a  salesman.  He 
discovered  the  'Selim  shawl,'  an  absolutely  unsalable  article, 
yet  we  never  bring  it  out  but  we  sell  it.  We  keep  always  a 
shawl  worth  five  or  six  hundred  francs  in  a  cedar-wood  box, 
perfectly  plain  outside,  but  lined  with  satin.  It  is  one  of  the 
shawls  that  Selim  sent  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  It  is  our 
Imperial  Guard;  it  is  brought  to  the  front  whenever  the  day 
is  almost  lost;  il  se  vend  et  ne  meurt  pas — it  sells  its  life 
dearly  time  after  time." 

As  he  spoke,  an  Englishwoman  stepped  from  her  jobbed 
carriage  and  appeared  in  all  the  glory  of  that  phlegmatic 
humor  peculiar  to  Britain  and  to  all  its  products  which  make 
believe  they  are  alive.  The  apparition  put  you  in  mind  of  the 
Commandant's  statue  in  Don  Juan,  it  walked  along,  jerkily 
by  fits  and  starts,  in  an  awkward  fashion  invented  in  London, 
and  cultivated  in  every  family  with  patriotic  care. 

"An  Englishwoman !"  he  continued  for  Bixiou's  ear.  "An 
Englishwoman  is  our  Waterloo.  There  are  women  who  slip 
through  our  fingers  like  eels ;  we  catch  them  on  the  staircase. 
There  are  lorettes  who  chaff  us,  we  join  in  the  laugh,  we  have 
a  hold  on  them  because  we  give  credit.  There  are  sphinx-like 
foreign  ladies;  we  take  a  quantity  of  shawls  to  their  houses, 
and  arrive  at  an  understanding  by  flattery;  but  an  English- 
woman ! — you  might  as  well  attack  the  bronze  statue  of  Louis 
Quatorze !  That  sort  of  woman  turns  shopping  into  an  occu- 
pation, an  amusement.  She  quizzes  us,  forsooth!" 

The  romantic  assistant  came  to  the  front. 

"Does  madame  wish  for  real  Indian  shawls  or  French,  some- 
thing expensive  or " 


280  GAUDISSART  II. 

"I  will  see."     (Je  veraie.) 

"How  much  would  madame  propose " 

"I  will  see/' 

The  shopman  went  in  quest  of  shawls  to  spread  upon  the 
mantle-stand,  giving  his  colleagues  a  significant  glance.  "What 
a  hore!"  he  said  plainly,  with  an  almost  imperceptible  shrug 
of  the  shoulders. 

"These  are  our  best  quality  in  Indian  red,  blue,  and  pale 
orange — all  at  ten  thousand  francs.  Here  are  shawls  at  five 
thousand  francs,  and  others  at  three." 

The  Englishwoman  took  up  her  eyeglass  and  looked  round 
the  room  with  gloomy  indifference;  then  she  submitted  the 
three  stands  to  the  same  scrutiny,  and  made  no  sign. 

"Have  you  any  more?"  (Havaivod'hote?)   demanded  she. 

"Yes,  madame.  But  perhaps  madame  has  not  quite  de- 
cided to  take  a  shawl  ?" 

"Oh,  quite  decided"  (trei-deycidai) . 

The  young  man  went  in  search  of  cheaper  wares.  These  he 
spread  out  solemnly  as  if  they  were  things  of  price,  saying 
by  his  manner,  "Pay  attention  to  all  this  magnificence !" 

"These  are  much  more  expensive,"  said  he.  "They  have 
never  been  worn :  they  have  come  by  courier  direct  from  the 
manufacturers  at  Lahore." 

"Oh !  I  see,"  said  she ;  "they  are  much  more  like  the  thing 
I  want." 

The  shopman  kept  his  countenance  in  spite  of  inward  irri- 
tation, which  communicated  itself  to  Duronceret  and  Bixiou. 
The  Englishwoman,  cool  as  a  cucumber,  appeared  to  rejoice 
in  her  phlegmatic  humor. 

"What  price?"  she  asked,  indicating  a  sky-blue  shawl  cov- 
ered with  a  pattern  of  birds  nestling  in  pagodas. 

"Seven  thousand  francs." 

She  took  it  up,  wrapped  it  about  her  shoulders,  looked  in 
the  glass,  and  handed  it  back  again. 

"No,  I  do  not  like  it  at  all."     (Je  n'ame  pouinte.) 

A  long  quarter  of  an  hour  went  by  in  trying  on  other 
shawls;  to  no  purpose. 


GAUDISSART  II.  281 

"This  is  all  we  have,  madame,"  said  the  assistant,  glanc- 
ing at  the  master  as  he  spoke. 

"Madame  is  fastidious,  like  all  persons  of  taste,"  said  the 
head  of  the  establishment,  coming  forward  with  that  trades- 
man's suavity  in  which  pomposity  is  agreeably  blended  with 
subservience.  The  Englishwoman  took  up  her  eyeglass  and 
scanned  the  manufacturer  from  head  to  foot,  unwilling  to 
understand  that  the  man  before  her  was  eligible  for  Parlia- 
ment and  dined  at  the  Tuileries. 

"I  have  only  one  shawl  left,"  he  continued,  "but  I  never 
show  it.  It  is  not  to  everybody's  taste ;  it  is  quite  out  of  the 
common.  I  was  thinking  this  morning  of  giving  it  to  my  wife. 
We  have  had  it  in  stock  since  1805;  it  belonged  to  the  Em- 
press Josephine." 

"Let  me  see  it,  monsieur." 

"Go  for  it,"  said  the  master,  turning  to  a  shopman.  "It  is 
at  my  house." 

"I  should  be  very  much  pleased  to  see  it,"  said  the  English 
lady. 

This  was  a  triumph.  The  splenetic  dame  was  apparently 
on  the  point  of  going.  She  made  as  though  she  saw  nothing 
but  the  shawls;  but  all  the  while  she  furtively  watched  the 
shopmen  and  the  two"  customers,  sheltering  her  eyes  behind 
the  rims  of  her  eyeglasses. 

"It  cost  sixty  thousand  francs  in  Turkey,  madame." 

"Oh!"  (haul) 

"It  is  one  of  seven  shawls  which  Selim  sent,  before  his  fall, 
to  the  Emperor  Xapoleon.  The  Empress  Josephine,  a  Creole, 
as  you  know,  my  lady,  and  very  capricious  in  her  tastes,  ex- 
changed  this  one  for  another  brought  by  the  Turkish  ambassa- 
dor, and  purchased  by  my  predecessor;  but  I  have  never  seen 
the  money  back.  Our  ladies  in  France  are  not  rich  enough : 
it  is  not  as  it  is  in  England.  The  shawl  is  worth  seven  thou- 
sand francs;  and  taking  interest  and  compound  interest  al- 
together, it  makes  up  fourteen  or  fifteen  thousand  by  now — " 

"How  does  it  make  up?"  asked  the  Englishwoman. 

"Here  it  is,  madame." 


282  GAUDISSART  II. 

With  precautions,  which  a  custodian  of  the  Dresden  Grunc. 
Gewolbe  might  have  admired,  he  took  out  an  infinitesimal 
key  and  opened  a  square  cedar-wood  box.  The  Englishwoman 
was  much  impressed  with  its  shape  and  plainness.  From  that 
box,  lined  with  black  satin,  he  drew  a  shawl  worth  about  fif- 
teen hundred  francs,  a  black  pattern  on  a  golden-yellow 
ground,  of  which  the  startling  color  was  only  surpassed  by 
the  surprising  efforts  of  tht  Indian  imaginsrtion. 

"Splendid,"  said  the  lady,  in  a  mixture  of  French  and 
English,  "it  is  really  handsome.  Just  my  ideal"  (ideal]  "of  a 
shawl;  it  is  very  magnificent."  The  rest  was  lost  in  a  ma- 
donna's pose  assumed  for  the  purpose  of  displaying  a  pair  oi 
frigid  eyes  which  she  believed  to  be  very  fine. 

"It  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  Emperor  Napoleon;  he 
took " 

"A  gr«at  favorite/'  repeated  she  with  her  English  accent. 
Then  &he  arranged  the  shawl  about  her  shoulders  and  looked 
at  herself  in  the  glass.  The  proprietor  took  it  to  the  light, 
gathered  it  up  in  his  hands,  smoothed  it  out,  showed  the  gloss 
on  it,  played  on  it  as  Liszt  plays  on  the  pianoforte  keys. 

"It  is  very  fine;  beautiful,  sweet!"  said  the  lady,  as  com- 
posedly as  possible. 

Duronceret,  Bixiou,  and  the  shopmen  exchanged  amused 
glances.  "The  shawl  is  sold,"  they  thought. 

"Well,  madame?"  inquired  the  proprietor,  as  the  English- 
woman appeared  to  be  absorbed  in  meditations  infinitely  pro- 
longed. 

"Decidedly,"  said  she;  "I  would  rather  have  a  carriage" 
(une  voteure). 

All  the  assistants,  listening  with  silent  rapt  attention, 
started  as  one  man,  as  if  an  electric  shock  had  gone  through 
them. 

"I  have  a  very  handsome  one,  madame,"  said  the  proprietor 
with  unshaken  composure ;  "it  belonged  to  a  Russian  princess, 
the  Princess  Narzicof;  she  left  it  with  me  in  payment  for 
goods  received.  If  madame  would  like -to  see  it,  she  would 
be  astonished.  It  is  new;  it  has  not  been  in  use  altogether 
for  ten  days;  there  is  not  its  like  in  Paris." 


GAUDISSART  II.  283 

The  shopmen's  amazement  was  suppressed  by  profound 
admiration. 

"I  am  quite  willing/' 

"If  madame  will  keep  the  shawl,"  suggested  the  proprietor, 
"she  can  try  the  effect  in  the  carriage."  And  he  went  for  his 
hat  and  gloves. 

"How  will  this  end?"  asked  the  head  assistant,  as  he 
watched  his  employer  offer  an  arm  to  the  English  lady  and 
go  down  with  her  to  the  jobbed  brougham. 

By  this  time  the  thing  had  come  to  be  as  exciting  as  the 
last  chapter  of  a  novel  for  Duronceret  and  Bixiou,  even  with- 
out the  additional  interest  attached  to  all  contests,  however 
trifling,  between  England  and  France. 

Twenty  minutes  later  the  proprietor  returned. 

"Go  to  the  Hotel  Lawson  (here  is  the  card,  'Mrs.  ISTos- 
welP),  and  take  an  invoice  that  I  will  give  you.  There  are 
six  thousand  francs  to  take." 

"How  did  you  do  it?"  asked  Duronceret,  bowing  before 
the  king  of  invoices. 

"Oh,  I  saw  what  she  was,  an  eccentric  woman  that  loves  to 
be  conspicuous.  As  soon  as  she  saw  that  every  one  stared  at 
her,  she  said,  'Keep  your  carriage,  monsieur,  my  mind  is 
made  up ;  I  will  take  the  shawl.'  While  M.  Bigorneau  (indi- 
cating the  romantic-looking  assistant)  was  serving,  I  watched 
her  carefully ;  she  kept  one  eye  on  you  all  the  time  to  see  what 
you  thought  of  her ;  she  was  thinking  more  about  you  than  of 
the  shawls.  Englishwomen  are  peculiar  in  their  distaste  (for 
one  cannot  call  it  taste)  ;  they  do  not  know  what  they  want; 
they  make  up  their  minds  to  be  guided  by  circumstances  at 
the  time,  and  not  by  their  own  choice.  I  saw  the  kind  of 
woman  at  once,  tired  of  her  husband,  tired  of  her  brats,  re- 
gretfully virtuous,  craving  excitement,  always  posing  as  a 
weeping  willow.  .  .  ." 

These  were  his  very  words. 

Which  proves  that  in  all  other  countries  of  the  world  a  shop- 
keeper is  a  shopkeeper;  while  in  France,  and  in  Paris  more 
particularly,  he  is  a  student  from  a  College  Royal,  a  well-read 


284  GAUDISSART  II. 

man  with  a  taste  for  art,  or  angling,  or  the  theatre,  and  con- 
sumed, it  may  be,  with  a  desire  to  be  M.  Cunin-Gridaine's 
successor,  or  a  colonel  of  the  National  Guard,  or  a  member 
of  the  General  Council  of  the  Seine,  or  a  referee  in  the  Com- 
mercial Court. 

"M.  Adolphe,"  said  the  mistress  of  the  establishment,  ad- 
dressing the  slight  fair-haired  assistant,  "go  to  the  joiner  and 
order  another  cedar-wood  box." 

"And  now/'  remarked  the  shopman  who  had  assisted  Du- 
ronceret  and  Bixiou  to  choose  a  shawl  for  Mme.  Schontz,  "now 
we  will  go  through  our  old  stock  to  find  another  Selim  shawl." 

PARIS,  November  1844. 


SARRASINE 


COPYBIGHT,  1899, 
BY  CBOSCUP  &  STERLING  COMPANY. 


SARRASINE 

To  Monsieur  diaries  Bernard  du  Grail. 

I  WAS  buried  in  one  of  those  profound  reveries  to  which  every- 
body, even  a  frivolous  man,  is  subject  in  the  midst  of  the  most 
uproarious  festivities.  The  clock  on  the  filysee-Bourbon  had 
just  struck  midnight.  Seated  in  a  window  recess  and  con- 
cealed behind  the  undulating  folds  of  a  curtain  of  watered 
silk,  I  was  able  to  contemplate  at  my  leisure  the  garden  of  the 
mansion  at  which  I  was  passing  the  evening.  The  trees,  being 
partly  covered  with  snow,  were  outlined  indistinctly  against 
the  grayish  background  formed  by  a  cloudy  sky,  barely  whit- 
ened by  the  moon.  Seen  through  the  medium  of  that  strange 
atmosphere,  they  bore  a  vague  resemblance  to  spectres  care- 
lessly enveloped  in  their  shrouds,  a  gigantic  image  of  the  fa- 
mous Dance  of  Death.  Then,  turning  in  the  other  direction, 
I  could  gaze  admiringly  upon  the  dance  of  the  living !  a  mag- 
nificent salon,  with  walls  of  silver  and  gold,  with  gleaming 
chandeliers,  and  bright  with  the  light  of  many  candles.  There 
the  loveliest,  the  wealthiest  women  in  Paris,  bearers  of  the 
proudest  titles,  moved  hither  and  thither,  fluttered  from  room 
to  room  in  swarms,  stately  and  gorgeous,  dazzling  with  dia- 
monds ;  flowers  on  their  heads  and  breasts,  in  their  hair,  scat- 
tered over  their  dresses  or  lying  in  garlands  at  their  feet. 
Light  quiverings  of  the  body,  voluptuous  movements,  made 
the  laces  and  gauzes  and  silks  swirl  about  their  graceful  fig- 
ures. Sparkling  glances  here  and  there  eclipsed  the  lights, 
and  the  blaze  of  the  diamonds,  and  fanned  the  flame  of  hearts 
already  burning  too  brightly.  I  detected  also  significant  nods 
of  the  head  for  lovers  and  repellent  attitudes  for  husbands. 
The  exclamations  of  the  card-players  at  every  unexpected 
coup,  the  jingle  of  gold,  mingled  with  the  music  and  the  mur- 

(287) 


288  SARRASINE 

mur  of  conversation;  and  to  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the 
vertigo  of  that  multitude,  intoxicated  by  all  the  seductions  the 
world  can  offer,  a  perfume-laden  atmosphere  and  general  ex- 
altation acted  upon  their  over-wrought  imaginations.  Thus, 
at  my  right  was  the  depressing,  silent  image  of  death ;  at  my 
left  the  decorous  bacchanalia  of  life ;  on  the  one  side  nature, 
cold  and  gloomy,  and  in  mourning  garb;  on  the  other  side, 
man  on  pleasure  bent.  And,  standing  on  the  borderland  of 
those  two  incongruous  pictures,  which,  repeated  thousands 
of  times  in  diverse  ways,  make  Paris  the  most  entertaining 
and  most  philosophical  city  in  the  world,  I  played  a  mental 
macedoine*  half  jesting,  half  funereal.  With  my  left  foot  I 
kept  time  to  the  music,  and  the  other  felt  as  if  it  were  in  a 
tomb.  My  leg  was,  in  fact,  frozen  by  one  of  those  draughts 
which  congeal  one  half  of  the  body  while  the  other  suffers 
from  the  intense  heat  of  the  salons — a  state  of  things  not  un- 
usual at  balls. 

"Monsieur  de  Lanty  has  not  owned  this  house  very  long, 
has  he?" 

"Oh,  yes !  It  is  nearly  ten  years  since  the  Marechal  de  Ca- 
rigliano  sold  it  to  him." 

"Ah!" 

"These  people  must  have  an  enormous  fortune." 

"They  surely  must." 

"What  a  magnificent  party !  It  is  almost  insolent  in  its 
splendor." 

"Do  you  imagine  they  are  as  rich  as  Monsieur  de  Nucin- 
gen  or  Monsieur  de  Gondreville  ?" 

"Why,  don't  you  know?" 

I  leaned  forward  and  recognized  the  two  persons  who  were 
talking  as  members  of  that  inquisitive  genus  which,  in  Paris, 
busies  itself  exclusively  with  the  Whys  and  Hows.  Where 
does  he  come  from  ?  Who  are  they  ?  What's  the  matter  with 
him?  What  has  she  done?  They  lowered  their  voices  and 

Jfacfdoine,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  here  used,  is  a  game,  or  rather  a  series  of 
games,  of  cards,  each  player,  when  it  is  his  turn  to  deal,  selecting  the  game  to 
be  played. 


SAREASINE  289 

walked  away  in  order  to  talk  more  at  their  ease  on  some  re- 
tired couch.  Never  was  a  more  promising  mine  laid  open  to 
seekers  after  mysteries.  No  one  knew  from  what  country 
the  Lanty  family  came,  nor  to  what  source — commerce,  extor- 
tion, piracy,  or  inheritance — they  owed  a  fortune  estimated 
at  several  millions.  All  the  members  of  the  family  spoke 
Italian,  French,  Spanish,  English,  and  German,  with  suffi- 
cient fluency  to  lead  one  to  suppose  that  they  had  lived  long 
among  those  different  peoples.  Were  they  gypsies  ?  were  they 
buccaneers  ? 

"Suppose  they're  the  devil  himself,"  said  divers  young  poli- 
ticians, "they  entertain  mighty  well." 

"The  Comte  de  Lanty  may  have  plundered  some  Casbah  for 
all  I  care ;  I  would  like  to  marry  his  daughter !"  cried  a  phil- 
osopher. 

Who  would  not  have  married  Marianina,  a  girl  of  sixteen, 
whose  beauty  realized  the  fabulous  conceptions  of  Oriental 
poets !  Like  the  Sultaja's  daughter  in  the  tale  of  the  Won- 
derful Lamp,  she  should  have  remained  always  veiled.  Her 
singing  obscured  the  imperfect  talents  of  the  Malibrans,  the 
Sontags,  and  the  Fodors,  in  whom  some  one  dominant  quality 
always  mars  the  perfection  of  the  whole;  whereas  Marianina 
combined  in  equal  degree  purity  of  tone,  exquisite  feeling, 
accuracy  of  time  and  intonation,  science,  soul,  and  delicacy. 
She  was  the  type  of  that  hidden  poesy,  the  link  which  con- 
nects all  the  arts  and  which  always  eludes  those  who  seek  it. 
Modest,  sweet,  well-informed,  and  clever,  none  could  eclipse 
Marianina  unless  it  were  her  mother. 

Have  you  ever  met  one  of  those  women  whose  startling 
beauty  defies  the  assaults  of  time,  and  who  seem  at  thirty- 
six  more  desirable  than  they  could  have  been  fifteen  years 
earlier?  Their  faces  are  impassioned  souls;  they  fairly 
sparkle ;  each  feature  gleams  with  intelligence ;  each  possesses 
a  brilliancy  of  its  own,  especially  in  the  light.  Their  capti- 
vating eyes  attract  or  repel,  speak  or  are  silent;  their  gait  is 
artlessly  seductive ;  their  voices  unfold  the  melodious  treasures 
of  the  most  coquettishly  sweet  and  tender  tones.  Praise  of 


290  SARRASINE 

their  beauty,  based  upon  comparisons,  flatters  the  most  sensi- 
tive self-esteem.  A  movement  of  their  eyebrows,  the  slightest 
play  of  the  eye,  the  curling  of  the  lip,  instils  a  sort  of  terror 
in  those  whose  lives  and  happiness  depend  upon  their  favor. 
A  maiden  inexperienced  in  love  and  easily  moved  by  words 
may  allow  herself  to  be  seduced;  but  in  dealing  with  women 
of  this  sort,  a  man  must  be  able,  like  M.  de  Jaucourt,  to  re- 
frain from  crying  out  when,  in  hiding  him  in  a  closet,  the 
lady's  maid  crushes  two  of  his  fingers  in  the  crack  of  a  door. 
To  love  one  of  these  omnipotent  sirens  is  to  stake  one's  life,  is 
it  not?  And  that,  perhaps,  is  why  we  love  them  so  passion- 
ately !  Such  was  the  Comtesse  de  Lanty. 

Filippo,  Marianina's  brother,  inherited,  as  did  his  sister,  the 
Countess*  marvelous  beauty.  To  tell  the  whole  story  in  a 
word,  that  young  man  was  a  living  image  of  Antinoiis,  with 
somewhat  slighter  proportions.  But  how  well  such  a  slender 
and  delicate  figure  accords  with  youth,  when  an  olive  com- 
plexion, heavy  eyebrows,  and  the  gleam  of  a  velvety  eye  prom- 
ise virile  passions,  noble  ideas  for  the  future !  If  Filippo 
remained  in  the  hearts  of  young  women  as  a  type  of  manly 
beauty,  he  likewise  remained  in  the  memory  of  all  mothers  as 
the  best  match  in  France. 

The  beauty,  the  great  wealth,  the  intellectual  qualities,  of 
these  two  children  came  entirely  from  their  mother.  The 
Comte  de  Lauty  was  a  short,  thin,  ugly  little  man,  as  dismal 
as  a  Spaniard,  as  great  a  bore  as  a  banker.  He  was  looked 
upon,  however,  as  a  profound  politician,  perhaps  because  he 
rarely  laughed,  and  was  always  quoting  M.  de  Metternich  or 
Wellington. 

This  mysterious  family  had  all  the  attractiveness  of  a  poem 
by  Lord  Byron,  whose  difficult  passages  were  translated  dif- 
ferently by  each  person  in  fashionable  society;  a  poem  that 
grew  more  obscure  and  more  sublime  from  strophe  to  strophe. 
The  reserve  which  Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Lanty  main- 
tained concerning  their  origin,  their  past  lives,  and  their  re- 
lations with  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe  would  not,  of  itself, 
have  been  for  long  a  subject  of  wonderment  in  Paris.  In  no 


SARRASINE  •  291 

other  country,  perhaps,  is  •  Vespasian's  maxim  more  thor- 
oughly understood.  Here  gold  pieces,  even  when  stained  with 
blood  or  mud,  betray  nothing,  and  represent  everything.  Pro- 
vided that  good  society  knows  the  amount  of  your  fortune,  you 
are  classed  among  those  figures  which  equal  yours,  and  no 
one  asks  to  see  your  credentials,  because  everybody  knows  how 
little  they  cost.  In  a  city  where  social  problems  are  solved 
by  algebraic  equations,  adventurers  have  many  chances  in 
their  favor.  Even  if  this  family  were  of  gypsy  extraction,  it 
was  so  wealthy,  so  attractive,  that  fashionable  society  could 
well  afford  to  overlook  its  little  mysteries.  But,  unfortu- 
nately, the  enigmatical  history  of  the  Lanty  family  offered  a 
perpetual  subject  of  curiosity,  not  unlike  that  aroused  by  the 
novels  of  Anne  Radcliffe. 

People  of  an  observing  turn,  of  the  sort  who  are  bent  upon 
finding  out  where  you  buy  your  candelabra,  or  who  ask  you 
what  rent  you  pay  when  they  are  pleased  with  your  apart- 
ments, had  noticed,  from  time  to  time,  the  appearance  of  an 
extraordinary  personage  at  the  fetes,  concerts,  balls,  and 
routs  given  by  the  countess.  It  was  a  man.  The  first  time 
that  he  was  seen  in  the  house  was  at  a  concert,  when  he  seemed 
to  have  been  drawn  to  the  salon  by  Marianina's  enchanting 
voice. 

"I  have  been  cold  for  the  last  minute  or  two,"  said  a  lady 
near  the  door  to  her  neighbor. 

The  stranger,  who  was  standing  near  the  speaker,  moved 
away. 

"This  is  very  strange!  now  I  am  warm,"  she  said,  after 
his  departure.  "Perhaps  you  will  call  me  mad,  but  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  my  neighbor,  the  gentleman  in  black  who 
just  walked  away,  was  the  cause  of  my  feeling  cold." 

Ere  long  the  exaggeration  to  which  people  in  society  are 
naturally  inclined,  produced  a  large  and  growing  crop  of  the 
most  amusing  ideas,  the  most  curious  expressions,  the  most  ab- 
surd fables  concerning  tjiis  mysterious  individual.  Without 
being  precisely  a  vampire,  a  ghoul,  a  fictitious  man,  a  sort  of 

Faust  or  Robin  des  Bois,  he  partook  of  the  nature  of  all  these 
VOL.   16—50 


292  SAERASINE 

anthropomorphic  conceptions,  according  to  those  persons  who 
were  addicted  to  the  fantastic.  Occasionally  some  German 
would  take  for  realities  these  ingenious  jests  of  Parisian  evil- 
speaking.  The  stranger  was  simply  an  old  man.  Some  young 
men,  who  were  accustomed  to  decide  the  future  of  Europe 
every  morning  in  a  few  fashionable  phrases,  chose  to  see  in 
the  stranger  some  great  criminal,  the  possessor  of  enormous 
wealth.  Novelists  described  the  old  man's  life  and  gave  some 
really  interesting  details  of  the  atrocities  committed  by  him 
while  he  was  in  the  service  of  the  Prince  of  Mysore.  Bankers, 
men  of  a  more  positive  nature,  devised  a  specious  fable. 

"Bah !"  they  would  say,  shrugging  their  broad  shoulders 
pityingly,  "that  little  old  fellow's  a  Genoese  head !" 

"If  it  is  not  an  impertinent  question,  monsieur,  would 
you  have  the  kindness  to  tell  me  what  you  mean  by  a  Genoese 
head?" 

"I  mean,  monsieur,  that  he  is  a  man  upon  whose  life  enor- 
mous sums  depend,  and  whose  good  health  is  undoubtedly  es- 
sential to  the  continuance  of  this  family's  income.  I  remem- 
ber that  I  once  heard  a  mesmerist,  at  Madame  d'Espard's, 
undertake  to  prove  by  very  specious  historical  deductions, 
that  this  old  man,  if  put  under  the  magnifying  glass,  would 
turn  out  to  be  the  famous  Balsamo,  otherwise  called  Cagli- 
ostro.  According  to  this  modern  alchemist,  the  Sicilian  had 
escaped  death,  and  amused  himself  making  gold  for  his  grand- 
children. And  the  Bailli  of  Ferette  declared  that  he  recog- 
nized in  this  extraordinary  personage  the  Comte  de  Saint- 
Germain." 

Such  nonsense  as  this,  put  forth  with  the  assumption  of 
superior  cleverness,  with  the  air  of  raillery,  which  in  our  day 
characterize  a  society  devoid  of  faith,  kept  alive  vague  sus- 
picions concerning  the  Lanty  family.  At  last,  by  a  strange 
combination  of  circumstances,  the  members  of  that  family  jus- 
tified the  conjectures  of  society  by  adopting  a  decidedly  mys- 
terious course  of  conduct  with  this  old  man,  whose  life  was, 
in  a  certain  sense,  kept  hidden  from  all  investigations. 

If  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  apartment  he  was  sup- 


SARRASINE  293 

posed  to  occupy  in  the  Lanty  mansion,  his  appearance  always 
caused  a  great  sensation  in  the  family.  One  would  have  sup- 
posed that  it  was  an  event  of  the  greatest  importance.  Only 
Filippo,  Marianina,  Madame  de  Lanty,  and  an  old  servant 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  assisting  the  unknown  to  walk,  to  rise, 
to  sit  down.  Each  one  of  them  kept  a  close  watch  on  his 
slightest  movements.  It  seemed  as  if  he  were  some  enchanted 
person  upon  whom  the  happiness,  the  life,  or  the  fortune  of  all 
depended.  Was  it  fear  or  affection?  Society  could  discover 
no  indication  which  enabled  them  to  solve  this  problem.  Con- 
cealed for  months  at  a  time  in  the  depths  of  an  unknown 
sanctuary,  this  familiar  spirit  suddenly  emerged,  furtively  as 
it  were,  unexpectedly,  and  appeared  in  the  salons  like  the  fair- 
ies of  old,  who  alighted  from  their  winged  dragons  to  disturb 
festivities  to  which  they  had  not  been  invited.  Only  the  most 
experienced  observers  could  divine  the  anxiety,  at  such  times, 
of  the  masters  of  the  house,  who  were  peculiarly  skilful  in 
concealing  their  feelings.  But  sometimes,  while  dancing  a 
quadrille,  the  too  ingenuous  Marianina  would  cast  a  terrified 
glance  at  the  old  man,  whom  she  watched  closely  from  the 
circle  of  dancers.  Or  perhaps  Filippo  would  leave  his  place 
and  glide  through  the  crowd  to  where  he  stood,  and  remain  be- 
side him,  affectionate  and  watchful,  as  if  the  touch  of  man, 
or  the  faintest  breath,  would  shatter  that  extraordinary  crea- 
ture. The  countess  would  try  to  draw  nearer  to  him  without 
apparently  intending  to  join  him;  then,  assuming  a  manner 
and  an  expression  in  which  servility  and  affection,  submissive- 
ness  and  tyranny,  were  equally  noticeable,  she  would  say  two 
or  three  words,  to  which  the  old  man  almost  always  deferred ; 
and  he  would  disappear,  led,  or  I  might  better  say  carried 
away,  by  her.  If  Madame  de  Lanty  were  not  present,  the 
Count  would  employ  a  thousand  ruses  to  reach  his  side;  but 
it  always  seemed  as  if  he  found  difficulty  in  inducing  him  to 
listen,  and  he  treated  him  like  a  spoiled  child,  whose  mother 
gratifies  his  whims  and  at  the  same  time  suspects  mutiny. 
Some  prying  persons  having  ventured  to  question  the  Comte 
de  Lanty  indiscreetly,  that  cold  and  reserved  individual 


294  SARRASINE 

seemed  not  to  understand  their  questions.  And  so,  after  many 
attempts,  which  the  circumspection  of  all  the  members  of  the 
family  rendered  fruitless,  no  one  sought  to  discover  a  secret  so 
well  guarded.  Society  spies,  triflers,  and  politicians,  weary  of 
the  strife,  ended  by  ceasing  to  concern  themselves  about  the 
mystery. 

But  at  that  moment,  it  may  be,  there  were  in  those  gor- 
geous salons  philosophers  who  said  to  themselves,  as  they  dis- 
cussed an  ice  or  a  sherbet,  or  placed  their  empty  punch  glasses 
on  a  tray: 

"I  should  not  be  surprised  to  learn  that  these  people  are 
knaves.  That  old  fellow  who  keeps  out  of  sight  and  appears 
only  at  the  equinoxes  or  solstices,  looks  to  me  exactly  like  an 
assassin." 

"Or  a  bankrupt." 

"There's  very  little  difference.  To  destroy  a  man's  fortune 
is  worse  sometimes  than  to  kill  the  man  himself." 

"I  bet  twenty  louis,  monsieur ;  there  are  forty  due  me." 

"Faith,  monsieur;  there  are  only  thirty  left  on  the  cloth." 

"Just  see  what  a  mixed  company  there  is  here !  One  can't 
play  cards  in  peace." 

"Very  true.  But  it's  almost  six  months  since  we  saw  the 
Spirit.  Do  you  think  he's  a  living  being?" 

"Well,  barely." 

These  last  remarks  were  made  in  my  neighborhood  by  per- 
sons whom  I  did  not  know,  and  who  passed  out  of  hearing  just 
as  I  was  summarizing  in  one  last  thought  my  reflections,  in 
which  black  and  white,  life  and  death,  were  inextricably 
mingled.  My  wandering  imagination,  like  my  eyes,  contem- 
plated alternately  the  festivities,  which  had  now  reached  the 
climax  of  their  splendor,  and  the  gloomy  picture  presented  by 
the  gardens.  I  have  no  idea  how  long  I  meditated  upon  those 
two  faces  of  the  human  medal ;  but  I  was  suddenly  aroused  by 
the  stifled  laughter  of  a  young  woman.  I  was  stupefied  at  the 
picture  presented  to  my  eyes.  By  virtue  of  one  of  the  strang- 
est of  nature's  freaks,  the  thought  half  draped  in  black,  which 
was  tossing  about  in  my  brain,  emerged  from  it  and  stood  be- 


SARRASINE  295 

fore  me  personified,  living;  it  had  come  forth  like  Minerva 
from  Jupiter's  brain,  tall  and  strong ;  it  was  at  once  a  hundred 
years  old  and  twenty-two;  it  was  alive  and  dead.  Escaped 
from  his  chamber,  like  a  madman  from  his  cell,  the  little  old 
man  had  evidently  crept  behind  a  long  line  of  people  who  were 
listening  attentively  to  Marianina's  voice  as  she  finished  the 
cavatina  from  Tancred.  He  seemed  to  have  come  up  through 
the  floor,  impelled  by  some  stage  mechanism.  He  stood  for  a 
moment  motionless  and  sombre,  watching  the  festivities,  a 
murmur  of  which  had  perhaps  reached  his  ears.  His  almost 
somnambulistic  preoccupation  was  so  concentrated  upon 
things  that,  although  he  was  in  the  midst  of  many  people,  he 
saw  nobody.  He  had  taken  his  place  unceremoniously  beside 
one  of  the  most  fascinating  women  in  Paris,  a  young  and 
graceful  dancer,  with  slender  figure,  a  face  as  fresh  as  a  child's, 
all  pink  and  white,  and  so  fragile,  so  transparent,  that  it 
seemed  that  a  man's  glance  must  pass  through  her  as  the  sun's 
rays  pass  through  flawless  glass.  They  stood  there  before 
me,  side  by  side,  so  close  together,  that  the  stranger  rubbed 
against  the  gauze  dress,  and  the  wreaths  of  flowers,  and  the 
hair,  slightly  crimped,  and  the  floating  ends  of  the  sash. 

I  had  brought  that  young  woman  to  Madame  de  Lanty's 
ball.  As  it  was  her  first  visit  to  that  house,  I  forgave  her  her 
stifled  laugh;  but  I  hastily  made  an  imperious  sign  which 
abashed  her  and  inspired  respect  for  her  neighbor.  She  sat 
down  beside  me.  The  old  man  did  not  choose  to  leave  the 
charming  creature,  to  whom  he  clung  capriciously  with  the 
silent  and  apparently  causeless  obstinacy  to  which  very  old 
persons  are  subject,  and  which  makes  them  resemble  children. 
In  order  to  sit  down  beside  the  young  lady  he  needed  a  fold- 
ing-chair. His  slightest  movements  were  marked  by  the  inert 
heaviness,  the  stupid  hesitancy,  which  characterize  the  move- 
ments of  a  paralytic.  He  sat  slowly  down  upon  his  chair  with 
great  caution,  mumbling  some  unintelligible  words.  His 
cracked  voice  resembled  the  noise  made  by  a  stone  falling  into 
a  well.  The  young  woman  nervously  pressed  my  hand,  as  if 
she  were  trying  to  avoid  a  precipice,  and  shivered  when  that 


296  SARRASINE 

man-  at  whom  she  happened  to  be  looking,  turned  upon  her 
two  lifeless,  sea-green  eyes,  which  could  be  compared  to 
nothing  save  tarnished  mother-of-pearl. 

"I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  putting  her  lips  to  my  ear. 

"You  can  speak,"  I  replied ;  "he  hears  with  great  difficulty." 

"You  know  him,  then?" 

"Yes." 

!  Thereupon  she  summoned  courage  to  scrutinize  for  a  mo- 
'ment  that  creature  for  which  no  human  language  has  a  name, 
form  without  substance,  a  being  without  life,  or  life  without 
action.  She  was  under  the  spell  of  that  timid  curiosity  which 
impels  women  to  seek  perilous  excitement,  to  gaze  at  chained 
tigers  and  boa-constrictors,  shuddering  all  the  while  because 
the  barriers  between  them  are  so  weak.  Although  the  little 
old  man's  back  was  bent  like  a  day-laborer's,  it  was  easy  to 
see  that  he  must  formerly  have  been  of  medium  height.  His 
excessive  thinness,  the  slenderness  of  his  limbs,  proved  that  he 
had  always  been  of  slight  build.  He  wore  black  silk  breeches 
which  hung  about  his  fleshless  thighs  in  folds,  like  a  lowered 
veil.  An  anatomist  would  instinctively  have  recognized  the 
symptoms  of  consumption  in  its  advanced  stages,  at  sight  of 
the  tiny  legs  which  served  to  support  that  strange  frame.  You 
would  have  said  that  they  were  a  pair  of  cross-bones  on  a 
gravestone.  A  feeling  of  profound  horror  seized  the  heart 
when  a  close  scrutiny  revealed  the  marks  made  by  decrepitude 
upon  that  frail  machine. 

He  wore  a  white  waistcoat  embroidered  with  gold,  in  the 
old  style,  and  his  linen  was  of  dazzling  whiteness.  A  shirt- 
frill  of  English  lace,  yellow  with  age,  the  magnificence  of 
which  a  queen  might  have  envied,  formed  a  series  of  yellow 
ruffles  on  his  breast;  but  upon  him  the  lace  seemed  rather  a 
worthless  rag  than  an  ornament.  In  the  centre  of  the  frill  a 
diamond  of  inestimable  value  gleamed  like  a  sun.  That  super- 
annuated splendor,  that  display  of  treasure,  of  great  intrinsic 
worth,  but  utterly  without  taste,  served  to  bring  out  in  still 
bolder  relief  the  strange  creature's  face.  The  frame  was 
worthy  of  the  portrait.  That  dark  face  was  full  of  angles 


SARRASINE  297 

and  furrowed  deep  in  every  direction ;  the  chin  was  furrowed ; 
there  were  great  hollows  at  the  temples ;  the  eyes  were  sunken 
in  yellow  orbits.  The  maxillary  bones,  which  his  indescribable 
gauntness  caused  to  protrude,  formed  deep  cavities  in  the 
centre  of  both  cheeks.  These  protuberances,  as  the  light  fell 
upon  them,  caused  curious  effects  of  light  and  shadow  which 
deprived  that  face  of  the  last  vestige  of  resemblance  to  the 
human  countenance.  And  then,  too,  the  lapse  of  years  had 
drawn  the  fine,  yellow  skin  so  close  to  the  bones  that  it  de- 
scribed a  multitude  of  wrinkles  everywhere,  either  circular  like 
the  ripples  in  the  water  caused  by  a  stone  which  a  child  throws 
in,  or  star-shaped  like  a  pane  of  glass  cracked  by  a  blow;  but 
everywhere  very  deep,  and  as  close  together  as  the  leaves  of  a 
closed  book.  We  often  see  more  hideous  old  men;  but  what 
contributed  more  than  aught  else  to  give  to  the  spectre  that 
rose  before  us  the  aspect  of  an  artificial  creation  was  the  red 
and  white  paint  with  which  he  glistened.  The  eyebrows  shone 
in  the  light  with  a  lustre  which  disclosed  a  very  well  executed 
bit  of  painting.  Luckily  for  the  eye,  saddened  by  such  a  mass 
of  ruins,  his  corpse-like  skull  was  concealed  beneath  a  light 
wig,  with  innumerable  curls  which  indicated  extraordinary 
pretensions  to  elegance.  Indeed,  the  feminine  coquettishness 
of  this  fantastic  apparition  was  emphatically  asserted  by  the 
gold  ear-rings  which  hung  at  his  ears,  by  the  rings  contain- 
ing stones  of  marvelous  beauty  which  sparkled  on  his  fingers, 
like  the  brilliants  in  a  river  of  gems  around  a  woman's  neck. 
Lastly,  this  species  of  Japanese  idol  had  constantly  upon  his 
blue  lips,  a  fixed,  unchanging  smile,  the  shadow  of  an  implac- 
able and  sneering  laugh,  like  that  of  a  death's  head.  As  silent 
and  motionless  as  a  statue,  he  exhaled  the  musk-like  odor  of 
the  old  dresses  which  a  duchess'  heirs  exhume  from  her  ward- 
robe during  the  inventory.  If  the  old  man  turned  his  eyes 
toward  the  company,  it  seemed  that  the  movements  of  those 
globes,  no  longer  capable  of  reflecting  a  gleam,  were  accom- 
plished by  an  almost  imperceptible  effort ;  and,  when  the  eyes 
stopped,  he  who  was  watching  them  was  not  certain  finally 
that  they  had  moved  at  all.  As  I  saw,  beside  that  human  ruin, 


298  SARRASINE 

a  young  woman  whose  bare  neck  and  arms  and  breast  were 
white  as  snow;  whose  figure  was  well-rounded  and  beautiful 
in  its  youthful  grace ;  whose  hair,  charmingly  arranged  above 
an  alabaster  forehead,  inspired  love;  whose  eyes  did  not  re- 
ceive but  gave  forth  light,  who  was  sweet  and  fresh,  and  whose 
fluffy  curls,  whose  fragrant  breath,  seemed  too  heavy,  too 
harsh,  too  overpowering  for  that  shadow,  for  that  man  of  dust 
— ah !  the  thought  that  came  into  my  mind  was  of  death  and 
life,  an  imaginary  arabesque,  a  half -hideous  chimera,  divinely 
feminine  from  the  waist  up. 

"And  yet  such  marriages  are  often  made  in  society  !"  I  said 
to  myself. 

"He  smells  of  the  cemetery !"  cried  the  terrified  young  wo- 
man, grasping  my  arm  as  if  to  make  sure  of  my  protection, 
and  moving  about  in  a  restless,  excited  way,  which  convinced 
me  that  she  was  very  much  frightened.  "It's  a  horrible 
vision,"  she  continued ;  "I  cannot  stay  here  any  longer.  If  I 
look  at  him  again  I  shall  believe  that  Death  himself  has  come 
in  search  of  me.  But  is  he  alive  ?" 

She  placed  her  hand  on  the  phenomenon,  with  the  boldness 
which  women  derive  from  the  violence  of  their  wishes,  but  a 
cold  sweat  burst  from  her  pores,  for,  the  instant  she  touched 
the  old  man,  she  heard  a  cry  like  the  noise  made  by  a  rattle. 
That  shrill  voice,  if  indeed  it  were  a  voice,  escaped  from  a 
throat  almost  entirely  dry.  It  was  at  once  succeeded  by  a 
convulsive  little  cough  like  a  child's,  of  a  peculiar  resonance. 
At  that  sound,  Marianina,  Filippo,  and  Madame  de  Lanty 
looked  toward  us,  and  their  glances  were  like  lightning 
flashes.  The  young  woman  wished  that  she  were  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  Seine.  She  took  my  arm  and  pulled  me  away  to- 
ward a  boudoir.  Everybody,  men  and  women,  made  room  for 
us  to  pass.  Having  reached  the  farther  end  of  the  suite  of 
reception-rooms,  we  entered  a  small  semi-circular  cabinet. 
My  companion  threw  herself  on  a  divan,  breathing  fast  with 
terror,  not  knowing  where  she  was. 

"You  are  mad,  madame,"  I  said  to  her. 

"But,"  she  rejoined,  after  a  moment's  silence,  during  which 


SARRASINE  299 

I  gazed  at  her  in  admiration,  "is  it  my  fault?  Why  does 
Madame  de  Lanty  allow  ghosts  to  wander  round  her  house?" 

"Nonsense,"  I  replied;  "you  are  doing  just  what  fools  do. 
You  mistake  a  little  old  man  for  a  spectre." 

"Hush,"  she  retorted,  with  the  imposing,  yet  mocking,  air 
which  all  women  are  so  well  able  to  assume  when  they  are 
determined  to  put  themselves  in  the  right.  "Oh !  what  a  sweet 
boudoir !"  she  cried,  looking  about  her.  "Blue  satin  hangings 
always  produce  an  admirable  effect.  How  cool  it  is !  Ah !  the 
lovely  picture !"  she  added,  rising  and  standing  in  front  of  a 
magnificently  framed  painting. 

We  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  at  that  marvel  of  art,  which 
seemed  the  work  of  some  supernatural  brush.  The  picture 
represented  Adonis  stretched  out  on  a  lion's  skin.  The  lamp, 
in  an  alabaster  vase,  hanging  in  the  centre  of  the  boudoir,  cast 
upon  the  canvas  a  soft  light  which  enabled  us  to  grasp  all  the 
beauties  of  the  picture. 

"Does  such  a  perfect  creature  exist?"  she  asked  me,  after 
examining  attentively,  and  not  without  a  sweet  smile  of  sat- 
isfaction, the  exquisite  grace  of  the  outlines,  the  attitude,  the 
color,  the  hair,  in  fact  everything. 

"He  is  too  beautiful  for  a  man,"  she  added,  after  such  a 
scrutiny  as  she  would  have  bestowed  upon  a  rival. 

Ah !  how  sharply  I  felt  at  that  moment  those  pangs  of 
jealousy  in  which  a  poet  had  tried  in  vain  to  make  me  believe ! 
the  jealousy  of  engravings,  of  pictures, -of  statues,  wherein 
artists  exaggerate  human  beauty,  as  a  result  of  the  doctrine 
which  leads  them  to  idealize  everything. 

"It  is  a  portrait,"  I  replied.  "It  is  a  product  of  Vien's 
genius.  But  that  great  painter  never  saw  the  original,  and 
your  admiration  will  be  modified  somewhat  perhaps,  when  I 
tell  you  that  this  study  was  made  from  a  statue  of  a  woman." 

"But  who  is  it?" 

I  hesitated. 

"I  insist  upon  knowing,"  she  added  earnestly. 

"I  believe,"  I  said,  "that  this  Adonis  represents  a — a  rela- 
tive of  Madame  de  Lanty." 


300  SARRASINE 

I  had  the  chagrin  of  seeing  that  she  was  lost  in  contempla- 
tion of  that  figure.  She  sat  down  in  silence,  and  I  seated  my- 
self beside  her  and  took  her  hand  without  her  noticing  it. 
Forgotten  for  a  portrait !  At  that  moment  we  heard  in  the 
silence  a  woman's  footstep  and  the  faint  rustling  of  a  dress. 
We  saw  the  youthful  Marianina  enter  the  houdoir,  even  more 
resplendent  by  reason  of  her  expression  of  innocence  than  by 
reason  of  her  grace  and  her  fresh  costume;  she  was  walking 
slowly  and  leading  with  motherly  care,  with  a  daughter's 
solicitude,  the  spectre  in  human  attire,  who  had  driven  us 
from  the  music-room ;  as  she  led  him,  she  watched  with  some 
anxiety  the  slow  movement  of  his  feeble  feet.  They  walked 
painfully  across  the  boudoir  to  a  door  hidden  in  the  hang- 
ings. Marianina  knocked  softly.  Instantly  a  tall,  thin  man, 
a  sort  of  familiar  spirit,  appeared  as  if  by  magic.  Before  en- 
trusting the  old  man  to  this  mysterious  guardian,  the  lovely 
child,  with  deep  veneration,  kissed  the  ambulatory  corpse,  and 
her  chaste  caress  was  not  without  a  touch  of  that  graceful 
playfulness,  the  secret  of  which  only  a  few  privileged  women 
possess. 

"Addio,  addio!"  she  said,  with  the  sweetest  inflection  of 
her  young  voice. 

She  added  to  the  last  syllable  a  wonderfully  executed  trill, 
in  a  very  low  tone,  as  if  to  depict  the  overflowing  affection 
of  her  heart  by  a  poetic  expression.  The  old  man,  suddenly 
arrested  by  some  memory,  remained  on  the  threshold  of  that 
secret  retreat.  In  the  profound  silence  we  heard  the  sigh  that 
came  forth  from  his  breast ;  he  removed  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  rings  with  which  his  skeleton  fingers  were  laden,  and 
placed  it  in  Marianina's  bosom.  The  young  madcap  laughed, 
plucked  out  the  ring,  slipped  it  on  one  of  her  fingers  over  her 
glove,  and  ran  hastily  back  toward  the  salon,  where  the  or- 
chestra were,  at  that  moment,  beginning  the  prelude  of  a 
contra-dance. 

She  spied  us. 

"Ah!  were  you  here?"  she  said,  blushing. 

After  a  searching  glance  at  us  as  if  to  question  us,  she  ran 


SARRASINE  301 

away  to  her  partner  with  the  careless  petulance  of  her  years. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  queried  my  young  partner.  "Is 
he  her  husband  ?  I  believe  I  am  dreaming.  Where  am  I  ?" 

"You!"  I  retorted,  "you,  madame,  who  are  easily  excited, 
and  who,  understanding  so  well  the  most  imperceptible  emo- 
tions, are  able  to  cultivate  in  a  man's  heart  the  most  delicate 
of  sentiments,  without  crushing  it,  without  shattering  it  at 
the  very  outset,  you  who  have  compassion  for  the  tortures  of 
the  heart,  and  who,  with  the  wit  of  the  Parisian,  combine  a 
passionate  temperament  worthy  of  Spain  or  Italy " 

She  realized  that  my  words  were  heavily  charged  with  bit- 
ter irony;  and,  thereupon,  without  seeming  to  notice  it,  she 
interrupted  me  to  say: 

"Oh !  you  describe  me  to  suit  your  own  taste.  A  strange 
kind  of  tyranny  !  You  wish  me  not  to  be  myself!" 

"Oh !  I  wish  nothing,"  I  cried,  alarmed  by  the  severity  of 
her  manner.  "At  all  events,  it  is  true,  is  it  not,  that  you  like 
to  hear  stories  of  the  fierce  passions  kindled  in  our  hearts  by 
the  enchanting  women  of  the  South?" 

"Yes.     And  then?" 

"Why,  I  will  come  to  your  house  about  nine  o'clock  to- 
morrow evening,  and  elucidate  this  mystery  for  you." 

"No,"  she  replied,  with  a  pout;  "I  wish  it  done  now." 

"You  have  not  yet  given  me  the  right  to  obey  you  when 
you  say,  'I  wisli  it.' ' 

"At  this  moment,"  she  said,  with  an  exhibition  of  coquetry 
of  the  sort  that  drives  men  to  despair,  "I  have  a  most  violent 
desire  to  know  this  secret.  To-morrow  ib  may  be  that  I  will 
not  listen  to  you." 

She  smiled  and  we  parted,  she  still  as  proud  and  as  cruel,  I 
as  ridiculous,  as  ever.  She  had  the  audacity  to  waltz  with  a 
young  aide-de-camp,  and  I  was  by  turns  angry,  sulky,  admir- 
ing, loving,  and  jealous. 

"Until  to-morrow,"  she  said  to  me,  as  she  left  the  ball  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"I  won't  go,"  I  thought.  "I  give  you  up.  You  are  a  thou- 
sand times  more  capricious,  more  fanciful,  than — my  imagina- 
tion." 


302  SARRASINE    . 

The  next  evening  we  were  seated  in  front  of  a  bright  fire 
in  a  dainty  little  salon,  she  on  a  couch,  I  on  cushions  almost 
at  her  feet,  looking  up  into  her  face.  The  street  was  silent. 
The  lamp  shed  a  soft  light.  It  was  one  of  those  evenings 
which  delight  the  soul,  one  of  those  moments  which  are  never 
forgotten,  one  of  those  hours  passed  in  peace  and  longing, 
whose  charm  is  always  in  later  years  a  source  of  regret,  even 
when  we  are  happier.  What  can  efface  the  deep  imprint  of 
the  first  solicitations  of  love  ? 

"Go  on,"  she  said.    "I  am  listening." 

"But  I  dare  not  begin.  There  are  passages  in  the  story 
which  are  dangerous  to  the  narrator.  If  I  become  excited, 
you  will  make  me  hold  my  peace." 

"Speak." 

"I  obey. 

"Ernest-Jean  Sarrasine  was  the  only  son  of  a  prosecuting 
attorney  of  Franche-Comte,"  I  began,  after  a  pause.  "His 
father  had,  by  faithful  work,  amassed  a  fortune  which  yielded 
an  income  of  six  to  eight  thousand  francs,  then  considered  a 
colossal  fortune  for  an  attorney  in  the  provinces.  Old  Maitre 
Sarrasine,  having  but  one  child,  determined  to  give  him  a 
thorough  education;  he  hoped  to  make  a  magistrate  of  him, 
and  to  live  long  enough  to  see,  in  his  old  age,  the  grandson 
of  Mathieu  Sarrasine,  a  ploughman  in  the  Saint-Die  country, 
seated  on  the  lilies,  and  dozing  through  the  sessions  for  the 
greater  glory  of  the  Parliament ;  but  Heaven  had  not  that  joy 
in  store  for  the  attorney.  Young  Sarrasine,  entrusted  to  the 
care  of  the  Jesuits  at  an  early  age,  gave  indications  of  an  ex- 
traordinarily unruly  disposition.  His  was  the  childhood  of  a 
man  of  talent.  He  would  not  study  except  as  his  inclination 
led  him,  .often  rebelled,  and  sometimes  remained  for  whole 
hours  at  a  time  buried  in  tangled  meditations,  engaged  now 
in  watching  his  comrades  at  play,  now  in  forming  mental 
pictures  of  Homer's  heroes.  And,  when  he  did  choose  to 
amuse  himself,  he  displayed  extraordinary  ardor  in  his  games. 
Whenever  there  was  a  contest  of  any  sort  between  a  comrade 
and  himself,  it  rarely  ended  without  bloodshed.  If  he  were 


SARRASINE  303 

the  weaker,  he  would  use  his  teeth.  Active  and  passive  by 
turns,  either  lacking  in  aptitude,  or  too  intelligent,  his  ab- 
normal temperament  caused  him  to  distrust  his  masters  as 
much  as  his  schoolmates.  Instead  of  learning  the  elements  of 
the  Greek  language,  he  drew  a  picture  of  the  reverend  father 
who  was  interpreting  a  passage  of  Thucydides,  sketched  the 
teacher  of  mathematics,  the  prefect,  the  assistants,  the  man 
who  administered  punishment,  and  smeared  all  the  walls  with 
shapeless  figures.  Instead  of  singing  the  praises  of  the  Lord 
in  the  chapel,  he  amused  himself,  during  the  services,  by 
notching  a  bench ;  or,  when  he  had  stolen  a  piece  of  wood,  he 
would  carve  the  figure  of  some  saint.  If  he  had  no  wood  or 
stone  or  pencil,  he  worked  out  his  ideas  with  bread.  Whether 
he  copied  the  figures  in  the  pictures  which  adorned  the  choir, 
or  improvised,  he  always  left  at  his  seat  rough  sketches  whose 
obscene  character  drove  the  young  fathers  to  despair ;  and  the 
evil-tongued  alleged  that  the  Jesuits  smiled  at  them.  At  last, 
if  we  are  to  believe  college  traditions,  he  was  expelled  because, 
while  awaiting  his  turn  to  go  to  the  confessional  one  Good 
Friday,  he  carved  a  figure  of  the  Christ  from  a  stick  of  wood. 
The  impiety  evidenced  by  that  figure  was  too  flagrant  not  to 
draw  down  chastisement  on  the  artist.  He  had  actually  had 
the  hardihood  to  place  that  decidedly  cynical  image  on  the  top 
of  the  tabernacle ! 

"Sarrasine  came  to  Paris  to  seek  a  refuge  against  the 
threats  of  a  father's  malediction.  Having  one  of  those  strong 
wills  which  know  no  obstacles,  he  obeyed  the  behests  of  his 
genius  and  entered  Bouchardon's  studio.  He  worked  all  day 
and  went  about  at  night  begging  for  subsistence.  Bouchardon, 
marveling  at  the  young  artist's  intelligence  and  rapid  prog- 
ress, soon  divined  his  pupil's  destitute  condition ;  he  assisted 
him,  became  attached  to  him,  and  treated  him  like  his  own 
child.  Then,  when  Sarrasine's  genius  stood  revealed  in  one 
of  those  works  wherein  future  talent  contends  with  the  effer- 
vescence of  youth,  the  generous  Bouchardon  tried  to  restore 
him  to  the  old  attorney's  good  graces.  The  paternal  wrath 
subsided  in  face  of  the  famous  sculptor's  authority.  All  Be- 


304  SARRASINE 

sangon  congratulated  itself  on  having  brought  forth  a  future 
great  man.  In  the  first  outburst  of  delight  due  to  his  flat- 
tered vanity,  the  miserly  attorney  supplied  his  son  with  the 
means  to  appear  to  advantage  in  society.  The  long  and  la- 
borious study  demanded  by  the  sculptor's  profession  subdued 
for  a  long  time  Sarrasine's  impetuous  temperament  and  un- 
ruly genius.  Bouchardon,  foreseeing  how  violently  the  pas- 
sions would  some  day  rage  in  that  youthful  heart,  as  highly 
tempered  perhaps  as  Michelangelo's,  smothered  its  vehemence 
with  constant  toil.  He  succeeded  in  restraining  within  rea- 
sonable bounds  Sarrasine's  extraordinary  impetuosity,  by  for- 
bidding him  to  work,  by  proposing  diversions  when  he  saw 
that  he  was  carried  away  by  the  violence  of  some  idea,  or  by 
placing  important  work  in  his  hands  when  h$  saw  that  he  was 
on  the  point  of  plunging  into  dissipation.  But  with  that 
passionate  nature,  gentleness  was  always  the  most  powerful  of 
all  weapons,  and  the-  master  did  not  acquire  great  influence 
over  his  pupil  until  he  had  aroused  his  gratitude  by  fatherly 
kindness. 

"At  the  age  of  twenty-two  Sarrasine  was  forcibly  removed 
from  the  salutary  influence  which  Bouchardon  exercised  over 
his  morals  and  his  habits.  He  paid  the  penalty  of  his  genius 
by  winning  the  prize  for  sculpture  founded  by  the  Marquis  de 
Marigny,  Madame  de  Pompadour's  brother,  who  did  so  much 
for  art.  Diderot  praised  Bouchardon's  pupil's  statue  as  a 
masterpiece.  Not  without  profound  sorrow  did  the  king's 
sculptor  witness  the  departure  for  Italy  of  a  young  man  whose 
profound  ignorance  of  the  things  of  life  he  had,  as  a  matter 
of  principle,  refrained  from  enlightening.  Sarrasine  was 
Bouchardon's  guest  for  six  years.  Fanatically  devoted  to  his 
art,  as  Canova  was  at  a  later  day,  he  rose  at  dawn  and  went 
to  the  studio,  there  to  remain  until  night,  and  lived  with  his 
muse  alone.  If  he  went  to  the  Comedie-Frangaise,  he  was 
dragged  thither  by  his  master.  He  was  so  bored  at  Madame 
Geoffrin's,  and  in  the  fashionable  society  to  which  Bouchardon 
tried  to  introduce  him,  that  he  preferred  to  remain  alone,  and 
held  aloof  from  the  pleasures  of  that  licentious  age.  He  had 


SARRASINE  305 

no  other  mistresses  than  sculpture  and  Clotilde,  one  of  the 
celebrities  of  the  Opera.  Even  that  intrigue  was  of  hrief  du- 
ration. Sarrasine  was  decidedly  ugly,  always  badly  dressed, 
and  naturally  so  independent,  so  irregular  in  his  private  life, 
that  the  illustrious  nymph,  dreading  some  catastrophe,  soon 
remitted  the  sculptor  to  love  of  the  arts.  Sophie  Arnould 
made  some  witty  remark  on  the  subject.  She  was  surprised,  I 
think,  that  her  colleague  was  able  to  triumph  over  statues. 

"Sarrasine  started  for  Italy  in  1758.  On  the  journey  his 
ardent  imagination  took  fire  beneath  a  sky  of  copper  and  at 
sight  of  the  marvelous  monuments  with  which  the  fatherland 
of  the  arts  is  strewn.  He  admired  the  statues,  the  frescoes, 
the  pictures ;  and,  fired  with  a  spirit  of  emulation,  he  went  on 
to  Eome,  burning  to  inscribe  his  name  between  the  names  of 
Michelangelo  and  Bouchardon.  At  first,  therefore,  he  divided 
his  time  between  his  studio  work  and  examination  of  the  works 
of  art  which  abound  in  Rome.  He  had  already  passed  a  fort- 
night in  the  ecstatic  state  into  which  all  youthful  imagina- 
tions fall  at  sight  of  the  queen  of  ruins,  when  he  happened 
one  evening  to  enter  the  Argentina  theatre,  in  front  of  which 
there  was  an  enormous  crowd.  He  inquired  the  reasons  for 
the  presence  of  so  great  a  throng,  and  every  one  answered  by 
two  names: 

"  'Zambinella !  Jomelli !' 

"He  entered  and  took  a  seat  in  the  pit,  crowded  between 
two  unconscionably  stout  abbati;  but  luckily  he  was  quite 
near  the  stage.  The  curtain  rose.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
life  he  heard  the  music  whose  charms  Monsieur  Jean-Jacques 
Rousseau  had  extolled  so  eloquently  at  one  of  Baron  d'Hol- 
bach's  evening  parties.  The  young  sculptor's  senses  were  lu- 
bricated, so  to  speak,  by  Jomelli's  harmonious  strains.  The 
languorous  peculiarities  of  those  skilfully  blended  Italian 
voices  plunged  him  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  He  sat  there, 
mute  and  motionless,  not  even  conscious  of  the  crowding  of 
the  two  priests.  His  soul  poured  out  through  his  ears  and 
his  eyes.  He  seemed  to  be  listening  with  every  one  of  his 
pores.  Suddenly  a  whirlwind  of  applause  greeted  the  appear- 


306  SARRASINE 

ance  of  the  prima  donna.  She  came  forward  coquettishly  to 
the  footlights  and  courtesied  to  the  audience  with  infinite 
grace.  The  brilliant  light,  the  enthusiasm  of  a  vast  multitude, 
the  illusion  of  the  stage,  the  glamour  of  a  costume  which  was 
most  attractive  for  the  time,  all  conspired  in  that  woman's 
favor.  Sarrasine  cried  aloud  with  pleasure.  He  saw  before 
him  at  that  moment  the  ideal  beauty  whose  perfections  he  had 
hitherto  sought  here  and  there  in  nature,  taking  from  one 
model,  often  of  humble  rank,  the  rounded  outline  of  a  shapely 
leg;  from  another  the  contour  of  the  breast;  from  another 
her  white  shoulders ;  stealing  the  neck  of  that  young  girl,  the 
hands  of  this  woman,  and  the  polished  knees  of  yonder  child, 
but  never  able  to  find  beneath  the  cold  skies  of  Paris  the  rich 
and  satisfying  creations  of  ancient  Greece.  La  Zambinella 
displayed  in  her  single  person,  intensely  alive  and  delicate 
beyond  words,  all  those  exquisite  proportions  of  the  female 
form  which  he  had  so  ardently  longed  to  behold,  and  of  which 
a  sculptor  is  the  most  severe  and  at  the  same  time  the  most 
passionate  judge.  She  had  an  expressive  mouth,  eyes  instinct 
with  love,  flesh  of  dazzling  whiteness.  And  add  to  these  de- 
tails, which  would  have  filled  a  painter's  soul  with  rapture,  all 
the  marvelous  charms  of  the  Venuses  worshiped  and  copied 
by  the  chisel  of  the  Greeks.  The  artist  did  not  tire  of  admir- 
ing the  inimitable  grace  with  which  the  arms  were  attached 
to  the  body,  the  wonderful  roundness  of  the  throat,  the  grace- 
ful curves  described  by  the  eyebrows  and  the  nose,  and  the 
perfect  oval  of  the  face,  the  purity  of  its  clean-cut  lines,  and 
the  effect  of  the  thick,  drooping  lashes  which  bordered  the 
large  and  voluptuous  eyelids.  She  was  more  than  a  woman ; 
she  was  a  masterpiece !  In  that  unhoped-for  creation  there 
was  love  enough  to  enrapture  all  mankind,  and  beauties  cal- 
culated to  satisfy  the  most  exacting  critic. 

"Sarrasine  devoured  with  his  eyes  what  seemed  to  him  Pyg- 
malion's statue  descended  from  its  pedestal.  When  La  Zam- 
binella sang,  he  was  beside  himself.  He  was  cold ;  then  sud- 
denly he  felt  a  fire  burning  in  the  secret  depths  of  his  being, 
in  what,  for  lack  of  a  better  word,  we  call  the  heart.  He  did 


SARRASINE  307 

not  applaud,  he  said  nothing;  he  felt  a  mad  impulse,  a  sort 
of  frenzy  of  the  sort  that  seizes  us  only  at  the  age  when  there 
is  a  something  indefinably  terrible  and  infernal  in  our  desires. 
Sarrasine  longed  to  rush  upon  the  stage  and  seize  that  woman. 
His  strength,  increased  a  hundredfold  by  a  moral  depression 
impossible  to  describe, — for  such  phenomena  take  place  in  a 
sphere  inaccessible  to  human  observation, — insisted  upon  man- 
ifesting itself  with  deplorable  violence.  Looking  at  him,  you 
would  have  said  that  he  was  a  cold,  dull  man.  Eenown,  sci- 
ence, future,  life,  prizes,  all  vanished. 

"  'To  win  her  love  or  die !'  Such  was  the  sentence  Sarrasine 
pronounced  upon  himself. 

"He  was  so  completely  intoxicated  that  he  no  longer  saw 
theatre,  audience,  or  actors,  no  longer  heard  the  music.  Nay, 
more,  there  was  no  space  between  him  and  La  Zambinella; 
he  possessed  her ;  his  eyes,  fixed  steadfastly  upon  her,  took 
possession  of  her.  An  almost  diabolical  power  enabled  him 
to  feel  the  breath  of  that  voice,  to  inhale  the  fragrant  powder 
with  which  her  hair  was  covered,  to  see  the  slightest  inequali- 
ties of  her  face,  to  count  the  blue  veins  which  threaded  their 
way  beneath  the  satiny  skin.  And  that  fresh,  brisk  voice  of 
silvery  timbre,  flexible  as  a  thread  to  which  the  faintest  breath 
of  air  gives  form,  which  it  rolls  and  unrolls,  tangles  and  blows 
away,  that  voice  attacked  his  heart  so  fiercely  that  he  more 
than  once  uttered  an  involuntary  exclamation,  extorted  by 
the  convulsive  ecstasy  too  rarely  evoked  by  human  passions. 
He  was  soon  obliged  to  leave  the  theatre.  His  trembling  legs 
almost  refused  to  bear  him.  He  was  prostrated,  weak,  like  a 
nervous  man  who  has  given  way  to  a  terrible  burst  of  anger. 
He  had  had  such  exquisite  pleasure,  or  perhaps  had  suffered 
so,  that  his  life  had  flowed  away  like  water  from  an  overturned 
vessel.  He  felt  a  void  within  him,  a  sense  of  goneness  like 
the  utter  lack  of  strength  which  discourages  a  convalescent 
just  recovering  from  a  serious  sickness.  Overwhelmed  by  in- 
explicable melancholy,  he  sat  down  on  the  steps  of  a  church. 
There,  with  his  back  resting  against  a  pillar,  he  lost  himself 

in  a  fit  of  meditation  as  confused  as  a  dream.    Passion  had 
VOL.  16 — 51 


308  SARRASINE 

dealt  him  a  crushing  blow.  On  his  return  to  his  apartments 
he  was  seized  by  one  of  those  paroxysms  of  activity  which  re- 
veal to  us  the  presence  of  new  principles  in  our  existence.  A 
prey  to  that  first  fever  of  love  which  resembles  pain  as  much 
as  pleasure,  he  sought  to  defeat  his  impatience  and  his  frenzy 
by  sketching  La  Zambinella  from  memory.  It  was  a  sort  of 
material  meditation.  Upon  one  leaf  La  Zambinella  appeared 
in  that  pose,  apparently  calm  and  cold,  affected  by  Kaphael, 
Georgione,  and  all  the  great  painters.  On  another,  she  was 
coyly  turning  her  head  as  she  finished  a  roulade,  and  seemed 
to  be  listening  to  herself.  Sarrasine  drew  his  mistress  in  all 
poses:  he  drew  her  unveiled,  seated,  standing,  reclining, 
chaste,  and  amorous — interpreting,  thanks  to  the  delirious  ac- 
tivity of  his  pencil,  all  the  fanciful  ideas  which  beset  our 
imagination  when  our  thoughts  are  completely  engrossed  by 
a  mistress.  But  his  frantic  thoughts  outran  his  pencil.  He 
met  La  Zambinella,  spoke  to  her,  entreated  her,  exhausted  a 
thousand  years  of  life  and  happiness  with  her,  placing  her 
in  all  imaginable  situations,  trying  the  future  with  her,  so 
to  speak.  The  next  day  he  sent  his  servant  to  hire  a  box  near 
the  stage  for  the  whole  season.  Then,  like  all  young  men  of 
powerful  feelings,  he  exaggerated  the  difficulties  of  his  under- 
taking, and  gave  his  passion,  for  its  first  pasturage,  the  joy 
of  being  able  to  admire  his  mistress  without  obstacle.  The 
golden  age  of  love,  during  which  we  enjoy  our  own  sentiments, 
and  in  which  we  are  almost  as  happy  by  ourselves,  was  not 
likely  to  last  long  with  Sarrasine.  However,  events  surprised 
him  when  he  was  still  under  the  spell  of  that  springtime  hal- 
lucination, as  naive  as  it  was  voluptuous.  In  a  week  he  lived 
a  whole  lifetime,  occupied  through  the  day  in  molding  the 
clay  with  which  he  succeeded  in  copying  La  Zambinella,  not- 
withstanding the  veils,  the  skirts,  the  waists,  and  the  bows  of 
ribbon  which  concealed  her  from  him.  In  the  evening,  in- 
stalled at  an  early  hour  in  his  box,  alone,  reclining  on  a  sofa, 
he  made  for  himself,  like  a  Turk  drunk  with  opium,  a  happi- 
ness as  fruitful,  as  lavish,  as  he  wished.  First  of  all,  he  fa- 
miliarized himself  gradually  with  the  too  intense  emotions 


SARRASINE  309 

which  his  mistress'  singing  caused  him;  then  he  taught  his 
eyes  to  look  at  her,  and  was  finally  able  to  contemplate  her  at 
his  leisure  without  fearing  an  explosion  of  concealed  frenzy, 
like  that  which  had  seized  him  the  first  day.  His  passion  be- 
came more  profound  as  it  became  more  tranquil.  But  the  un- 
sociable sculptor  would  not  allow  his  solitude,  peopled  as  it 
was  with  images,  adorned  with  the  fanciful  creations  of  hope, 
and  full  of  happiness,  to  be  disturbed  by  his  comrades.  His 
love  was  so  intense  and  so  ingenuous,  that  he  had  to  undergo 
the  innocent  scruples  with  which  we  are  assailed  when  we  love 
for  the  first  time.  As  he  began  to  realize  that  he  would  soon 
be  required  to  bestir  himself,  to  intrigue,  to  ask  where  La 
Zambinella  lived,  to  ascertain  whether  she  had  a  mother,  an 
uncle,  a  guardian,  a  family, — in  a  word,  as  he  reflected  upon 
the  methods  of  seeing  her,  of  speaking  to  her,  he  felt  that  his 
heart  was  so  swollen  with  such  ambitious  ideas,  that  he  post- 
poned those  cares  until  the  following  day,  as  happy  in  his 
physical  sufferings  as  in  his  intellectual  pleasures." 

"But,"  said  Madame  de  Eochefide,  interrupting  me,  "I 
see  nothing  of  Marianina  or  her  little  old  man  in  all  this." 

"You  see  nothing  but  him !"  I  cried,  as  vexed  as  an  author 
for  whom  some  one  has  spoiled  the  effect  of  a  coup  de  theatre. 

"For  some  days,"  I  resumed  after  a  pause,  "Sarrasine  had 
been  so  faithful  in  attendance  in  his  box,  and  his  glances  ex- 
pressed such  passionate  love,  that  his  passion  for  La  Zam- 
binella's  voice  would  have  been  town-talk  in  Paris,  if  the  epi- 
sode had  happened  here;  but  in  Italy,  madame,  every  one 
goes  to  the  theatre  for  his  own  enjoyment,  with  all  his  own 
passions,  with  a  heartfelt  interest  which  precludes  all  thought 
of  espionage  with  opera-glasses.  However,  the  sculptor's  fran- 
tic admiration  could  not  long  escape  the  notice  of  the  per- 
formers, male  and  female.  One  evening  the  Frenchman  no- 
ticed that  they  were  laughing  at  him  in  the  wings.  It  is  hard 
to  say  what  violent  measures  he  might  have  resorted  to,  had 
not  La  Zambinella  come  on  the  stage.  She  cast  at  Sarrasine 
one  of  those  eloquent  glances  which  often  say  more  than  wo- 
men intend.  That  glance  was  a  complete  revelation  in  itself. 
Sarrasine  was  beloved! 


310  SARRASINE 

"  'If  it  is  a  mere  caprice/  he  thought,  already  accusing  his 
mistress  of  too  great  ardor,  'she  does  not  know  the  sort  of 
domination  to  which  she  is  about  to  become  subject.  Her 
caprice  will  last,  I  trust,  as  long  as  my  life.' 

"At  that  moment,  three  light  taps  on  the  door  of  his  box 
attracted  the  artist's  attention.  He  opened  the  door.  An  old 
woman  entered  with  an  air  of  mystery. 

"  'Young  man,'  she  said,  'if  you  wish  to  be  happy,  be  pru- 
dent. Wrap  yourself  in  a  cloak,  pull  a  broad-brimmed  hat 
over  your  eyes,  and  be  on  the  Rue  du  Corso,  in  front  of  the 
Hotel  d'Espagne,  about  ten  o'clock  to-night." 

"  'I  will  be  there,'  he  replied,  putting  two  louis  in  the  du- 
enna's wrinkled  hand. 

"He  rushed  from  his  box,  after  a  sign  of  intelligence  to  La 
Zambinella,  who  lowered  her  voluptuous  eyelids  modestly,  like 
a  woman  overjoyed  to  be  understood  at  last.  Then  he  hurried 
home,  in  order  to  borrow  from  his  wardrobe  all  the  charms  it 
could  loan  him.  As  he  left  the  theatre,  a  stranger  grasped 
his  arm. 

"  'Beware,  Signor  Frenchman,'  he  said  in  his  ear.  'This  is 
a  matter  of  life  and  death.  Cardinal  Cicognara  is  her  pro- 
tector, and  he  is  no  trifler.' 

"If  a  demon  had  placed  the  deep  pit  of  hell  between  Sar- 
rasine  and  La  Zambinella,  he  would  have  crossed  it  with  one 
stride  at  that  moment.  Like  the  horses  of  the  immortal  gods 
described  by  Homer,  the  sculptor's  love  had  traversed  vast 
spaces  in  a  twinkling. 

"  'If  death  awaited  me  on  leaving  the  house,  I  would  go 
the  more  quickly,'  he  replied. 

"'Poverino!'  cried  the  stranger,  as  he  disappeared. 

"To  talk  of  danger  to  a  man  in  love  is  to  sell  him  pleasure. 
Sarrasine's  valet  had  never  seen  his  master  so  painstaking  in 
the  matter  of  dress.  His  finest  sword,  a  gift  from  Bouchar- 
don,  the  bow-knot  Clotilde  gave  him,  his  coat  with  gold  braid, 
his  waistcoat  of  cloth  of  silver,  his  gold  snuff-box,  his  valuable 
watch,  everything  was  taken  from  its  place,  and  he  arrayed 
himself  like  a  maiden  about  to  appear  before  her  first  lover. 


SAERASINE  311 

At  the  appointed  hour,  drunk  with  love  and  boiling  over  with 
hope,  Sarrasine,  his  nose  buried  in  his  cloak,  hurried  to  the 
rendezvous  appointed  by  the  old  woman.  She  was  waiting. 

"  'You  are  very  late/  she  said.    'Come/ 

"She  led  the  Frenchman  through  several  narrow  streets  and 
stopped  in  front  of  a  palace  of  attractive  appearance.  She 
knocked ;  the  door  opened.  She  led  Sarrasine  through  a  laby- 
rinth of  stairways,  galleries,  and  apartments  which  were 
lighted  only  by  uncertain  gleams  of  moonlight,  and  soon 
reached  a  door  through  the  cracks  of  which  stole  a  bright  light, 
and  from  which  came  the  joyous  sound  of  several  voices.  Sar- 
rasine was  suddenly  blinded  when,  at  a  word  from  the  old 
woman,  he  was  admitted  to  that  mysterious  apartment  and 
found  himself  in  a  salon  as  brilliantly  lighted  as  it  was  sump- 
tuously furnished;  in  the  centre  stood  a  bountifully  supplied 
table,  laden  with  inviolable  bottles,  with  laughing  decanters 
whose  red  facets  sparkled  merrily.  He  recognized  the  singers 
from  the  theatre,  male  and  female,  mingled  with  charming 
women,  all  ready  to  begin  an  artists'  spree  and  waiting  only 
for  him.  Sarrasine  restrained  a  feeling  of  displeasure  and 
put  a  good  face  on  the  matter.  He  had  hoped  for  a  dimly 
lighted  chamber,  his  mistress  leaning  over  a  brazier,  a  jealous 
rival  within  two  steps,  death  and  love,  confidences  exchanged 
in  low  tones,  heart  to  heart,  hazardous  kisses,  and  faces  so 
near  together  that  La  Zambinella's  hair  would  have  touched 
caressingly  his  desire-laden  brow,  burning  with  happiness. 

"'Vive  la  folie!'  he  cried.  'Signori  e  belle  donne,  you  will 
allow  me  to  postpone  my  revenge  and  bear  witness  to  my  grati- 
tude for  the  welcome  you  offer  a  poor  sculptor." 

"After  receiving  congratulations  not  lacking  in  warmth 
from  most  of  those  present,  whom  he  knew  by  sight,  he  tried 
to  approach  the  couch  on  which  La  Zambinella  was  noncha- 
lantly reclining.  Ah !  how  his  heart  beat  when  he  spied  a  tiny 
foot  in  one  of  those  slippers  which — if  you  will  allow  me  to 
say  so,  madame — formerly  imparted  to  a  woman's  feet  such  a 
coquettish,  voluptuous  look  that  I  cannot  conceive  how  men 
could  resist  them.  Tightly  fitting  white  stockings  with  green 


312  SAKRASINE 

clocks,  short  skirts,  and  the  pointed,  high-heeled  slippers  of 
Louis  XV. 's  time  contributed  somewhat,  I  fancy,  to  the  de- 
moralization of  Europe  and  the  clergy." 

"Somewhat !"  exclaimed  the  marchioness.  "Have  you  read 
nothing,  pray?" 

"La  Zambinella,"  I  continued,  smiling,  "had  boldly  crossed 
her  legs,  and  as  she  prattled  swung  the  upper  one,  a  duchess' 
attitude  very  well  suited  to  her  capricious  type  of  beauty,  over- 
flowing with  a  certain  attractive  suppleness.  She  had  laid 
aside  her  stage  costume,  and  wore  a  waist  which  outlined  a 
slender  figure,  displayed  to  the  best  advantage  by  a  panier 
and  a  satin  dress  embroidered  with  blue  flowers.  Her  breast, 
whose  treasures  were  concealed  by  a  coquettish  arrangement 
of  lace,  was  of  a  gleaming  white.  Her  hair  was  dressed  al- 
most like  Madame  du  Barry's;  her  face,  although  overshad- 
owed by  a  large  cap,  seemed  only  the  daintier  therefor,  and 
the  powder  was  very  becoming  to  her.  To  see  her  thus  was 
to  adore  her.  She  smiled  graciously  at  the  sculptor.  Sarra- 
sine,  disgusted  beyond  measure  at  finding  himself  unable  to 
speak  to  her  without  witnesses,  courteously  seated  himself 
beside  her,  and  discoursed  of  music,  extolling  her  prodigious 
talent ;  but  his  voice  trembled  with  love  and  fear  and  hope. 

"  'What  do  you  fear  ?'  queried  Vitagliani,  the  most  cele- 
brated singer  in  the  troupe.  'Go  on,  you  have  no  rival  here 
to  fear.' 

"After  he  had  said  this  the  tenor  smiled  silently.  The  lips 
of  all  the  guests  repeated  that  smile,  in  which  there  was  a 
lurking  expression  of  malice  likely  to  escape  a  lover.  The 
publicity  of  his  love  was  like  a  sudden  dagger-thrust  in  Sar- 
rasine's  heart.  Although  possessed  of  a  certain  strength  of 
character,  and  although  nothing  that  might  happen  could 
subdue  the  violence  of  his  passion,  it  had  not  before  occurred 
to  him  that  La  Zambinella  was  almost  a  courtesan,  and  that 
he  could  not  hope  to  enjoy  at  one  and  the  same  time  the  pure 
delights  which  make  a  maiden's  love  so  sweet,  and  the  pas- 
sionate transports  with  which  one  must  purchase  the  perilous 
favors  of  an  actress.  He  reflected  and  resigned  himself  to  his 


SARRASINE  313 

fate.  The  supper  was  served.  Sarrasine  and  La  Zambinella 
seated  themselves  side  by  side  without  ceremony.  During 
the  first  half  of  the  feast  the  artists  exercised  some  restraint, 
and  the  sculptor  was  able  to  converse  with  the  singer.  He 
found  that  she  was  very  bright  and  quick-witted;  but  she 
was  amazingly  ignorant  and  seemed  weak  and  superstitious. 
The  delicacy  of  her  organs  was  reproduced  in  her  understand- 
ing. When  Vitagliani  opened  the  first  bottle  of  champagne, 
Sarrasine  read  in  his  neighbor's  eyes  a  shrinking  dread  of  the 
report  caused  by  the  release  of  the  gas.  The  involuntary 
shudder  of  that  thoroughly  feminine  temperament  was  inter- 
preted by  the  amorous  artist  as  indicating  extreme  delicacy  of 
feeling.  This  weakness  delighted  the  Frenchman.  There  is 
so  much  of  the  element  of  protection  in  a  man's  love ! 
"  'You  may  make  use  of  my  power  as  a  shield !' 
"Is  not  that  sentence  written  at  the  root  of  all  declarations 
of  love  ?  Sarrasine,  who  was  too  passionately  in  love  to  make 
fine  speeches  to  the  fair  Italian,  was,  like  all  lovers,  grave, 
jovial,  meditative,  by  turns.  Although  he  seemed  to  listen 
to  the  guests,  he  did  not  hear  a  word  that  they  said,  he  was 
so  wrapped  up  in  the  pleasure  of  sitting  by  her  side,  of  touch- 
ing her  hand,  of  waiting  on  her.  He  was  swimming  in  a  sea 
of  concealed  joy.  Despite  the  eloquence  of  divers  glances  they 
exchanged,  he  was  amazed  at  La  Zambinella's  continued  re- 
serve toward  him.  She  had  begun,  it  is  true,  by  touching 
his  foot  with  hers  and  stimulating  his  passion  with  the  mis- 
chievous pleasure  of  a  woman  who  is  free  and  in  love;  but 
she  had  suddenly  enveloped  herself  in  maidenly  modesty,  after 
she  had  heard  Sarrasine  relate  an  incident  which  illustrated 
the  extreme  violence  of  his  temper.  When  the  supper  became 
a  debauch,  the  guests  began  to  sing,  inspired  by  the  Peralta 
and  the  Pedro-Ximenes.  There  were  fascinating  duets,  Cala- 
brian  ballads,  Spanish  sequidillas,and  Neapolitan  canzonettes. 
Drunkenness  was  in  all  eyes,  in  the  music,  in  the  hearts  and 
voices  of  the  guests.  There  was  a  sudden  overflow  of  bewitch- 
ing vivacity,  of  cordial  unconstraint,  of  Italian  good  nature, 
of  which  no  words  can  convey  an  idea  to  those  who  know  only 


314  SARRASINE 

the  evening  parties  of  Paris,  the  routs  of  London,  or  the  clubs 
of  Vienna.  Jests  and  words  of  love  flew  from  side  to  side 
like  bullets  in  a  battle,  amid  laughter,  impieties,  invocations 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin  or  the  Bambino.  One  man  lay  on  a  sofa 
and  fell  asleep.  A  young  woman  listened  to  a  declaration, 
unconscious  that  she  was  spilling  Xeres  wine  on  the  table- 
cloth. Amid  all  this  confusion  La  Zambinella,  as  if  terror- 
stricken,  seemed  lost  in  thought.  She  refused  to  drink,  but 
ate  perhaps  a  little  too  much;  but  gluttony  is  attractive  in 
women,  it  is  said.  Sarrasine,  admiring  his  mistress'  modesty, 
indulged  in  serious  reflections  concerning  the  future. 

"  'She  desires  to  be  married,  I  presume,'  he  said  to  himself. 

"Thereupon  he  abandoned  himself  to  blissful  anticipations 
of  marriage  with  her.  It  seemed  to  him  that  his  whole  life 
would  be  too  short  to  exhaust  the  living  spring  of  happiness 
which  he  found  in  the  depths  of  his  heart.  Vitagliani,  who  sat 
on  his  other  side,  filled  his  glass  so  often  that,  about  three 
in  the  morning,  Sarrasine,  while  not  absolutely  drunk,  was 
powerless  to  resist  his  delirious  passion.  In  a  moment  of 
frenzy  he  seized  the  woman  and  carried  her  to  a  sort  of  bou- 
doir which  opened  from  the  salon,  and  toward  which  he  had 
more  than  once  turned  his  eyes.  The  Italian  was  armed  with 
a  dagger. 

"  'If  you  come  near  me,'  she  said,  'I  shall  be  compelled  to 
plunge  this  blade  into  your  heart.  Go !  you  would  despise 
me.  I  have  conceived  too  great  a  respect  for  your  character  to 
abandon  myself  to  you  thus.  I  do  not  choose  to  destroy  the 
sentiment  with  which  you  honor  me.' 

"  'Ah !'  said  Sarrasine,  'to  stimulate  a  passion  is  a  poor 
way  to  extinguish  it !  Are  you  already  so  corrupt  that,  being 
old  in  heart,  you  act  like  a  young  prostitute  who  inflames  the 
emotions  in  which  she  trades?" 

"  'Why,  this  is  Friday,'  she  replied,  alarmed  by  the  French- 
man's violence. 

"Sarrasine,  who  was  not  piously  inclined,  began  to  laugh. 
La  Zambinella  gave  a  bound  like  a  young  deer,  and  darted 
into  the  salon.  When  Sarrasine  appeared,  running  after  her, 


SARRASINE  315 

he  was  welcomed  by  a  roar  of  infernal  laughter.  He  saw  La 
Zambineila  swooning  on  a  sofa.  She  was  very  pale,  as  if  ex- 
hausted by  the  extraordinary  effort  she  had  made.  Although 
Sarrasine  knew  but  little  Italian,  he  understood  his  mistress 
when  she  said  to  Vitagliani  in  a  low  voice: 

"  'But  he  will  kill  me  !' 

"This  strange  scene  abashed  the  sculptor.  His  reason  re- 
turned. He  stood  still  for  a  moment ;  then  he  recovered  his 
speech,  sat  down  beside  his  mistress,  and  assured  her  of  his 
profound  respect.  He  found  strength  to  hold  his  passion  in 
check  while  talking  to  her  in  the  most  exalted  strain ;  and,  to 
describe  his  love,  he  displayed  all  the  treasures  of  eloquence 
-'—that  sorcerer,  that  friendly  interpreter,  whom  women  rarely 
refuse  to  believe.  When  the  first  rays  of  dawn  surprised  the 
boon  companions,  some  woman  suggested  that  they  go  to  Fras- 
cati.  One  and  all  welcomed  with  loud  applause  the  idea  of 
passing  the  day  at  Villa  Ludovisi.  Vitagliani  went  down  to 
hire  carriages.  Sarrasine  had  the  good  fortune  to  drive  La 
Zambineila  in  a  phaeton.  When  they  had  left  Eome  behind, 
the  merriment  of  the  party,  repressed  for  a  moment  by  the 
battle  they  had  all  been  fighting  against  drowsiness,  suddenly 
awoke.  All,  men  and  women  alike,  seemed  accustomed  to  that 
strange  life,  that  constant  round  of  pleasures,  that  artistic 
energy,  which  makes  of  life  one  never  ending  fete,  where 
laughter  reigns,  unchecked  by  fear  of  the  future.  The  sculp- 
tor's companion  was  the  only  one  who  seemed  out  of  spirits. 

"  'Are  you  ill  ?'  Sarrasine  asked  her.  'Would  you  prefer  to 
go  home?' 

"  'I  am  not  strong  enough  to  stand  all  this  dissipation/ 
she  replied.  'I  have  to  be  very  careful;  but  I  feel  so  happy 
with  you !  Except  for  you,  I  should  not  have  remained  to 
this  supper ;  a  night  like  this  takes  away  all  my  freshness.' 

"  'You  are  so  delicate !'  rejoined  Sarrasine,  gazing  in  rap- 
ture at  the  charming  creature's  dainty  features. 

"  'Dissipation  ruins  my  voice.' 

" 'Xow  that  we  are -alone,'  cried  the  artist,  'and  that  you 
no  longer  have  reason  to  fear  the  effervescence  of  my  passion, 
tell  me  that  you  love  me.' 


316  SARRASINE 

"  'Why  ?'  said  she ;  'for  what  good  purpose  ?  You  think  mg 
pretty.  But  you  are  a  Frenchman,  and  your  fancy  will  pass 
away.  Ah  !  you  would  not  love  me  as  I  should  like  to  be  loved.' 

"''How?'' 

"  'Purely,  with  no  mingling  of  vulgar  passion.  I  abhor 
men  even  more,  perhaps,  than  I  hate  women.  I  need  to  take 
refuge  in  friendship.  The  world  is  a  desert  to  me.  I  am  an 
accursed  creature,  doomed  to  understand  happiness,  to  feel  it, 
to  desire  it,  and  like  many,  many  others,  compelled  to  see  it 
always  fly  from  me.  Eemember,  signer,  that  I  have  not  de- 
ceived you.  I  forbid  you  to  love  me.  I  can  be  a  devoted  friend 
to  you,  for  I  admire  your  strength  of  will  and  your  character. 
I  need  a  brother,  a  protector.  Be  both  of  these  to  me,  but 
nothing  more.' 

"  'And  not  love  you !'  cried  Sarrasine ;  'but  you  are  my  life, 
my  happiness,  dear  angel !' 

"  'If  I  should  say  a  word,  you  would  spurn  me  with  hor- 
ror.' 

"  'Coquette !  nothing  can  frighten  me.  Tell  me  that  you 
will  cost  me  my  whole  future,  that  I  shall  die  two  months 
hence,  that  I  shall  be  damned  for  having  kissed  you  but 
once 

"And  he  kissed  her,  despite  La  Zambinella's  efforts  to  avoid 
that  passionate  caress. 

"  'Tell  me  that  you  are  a  demon,  that  I  must  give  you  my 
fortune,  my  name,  all  my  renown !  Would  you  have  me  cease 
to  be  a  sculptor  ?  Speak.' 

"  'Suppose  I  were  not  a  woman  ?'  queried  La  Zambinella, 
timidly,  in  a  sweet,  silvery  voice. 

"  'A  merry  jest !'  cried  Sarrasine.  'Think  you  that  you  can 
deceive  an  artist's  eye?  Have  I  not,  for  ten  days  past,  ad- 
mired, examined,  devoured,  thy  perfections?  None  but  a 
woman  can  have  this  soft  and  beautifully  rounded  arm,  these 
graceful  outlines.  Ah  !  you  seek  compliments !' 

"She  smiled  sadly,  and  murmured: 

"  'Fatal  beauty !' 

"She  raised  her  ejes  to  the  sky.     At  that  moment,  there 


SARRASTKE  317 

was  in  her  eyes  an  indefinable  expression  of  horror,  so  start- 
ling, so  intense,  that  Sarrasine  shuddered. 

"  'Signer  Frenchman,'  she  continued,  'forget  forever  a 
moment's  madness.  I  esteem  you,  but  as  for  love,  do  not  ask 
me  for  that ;  that  sentiment  is  suffocated  in  my  heart.  I  have 
no  heart !'  she  cried,  weeping  bitterly.  'The  stage  on  which 
you  saw  me,  the  applause,  the  music,  the  renown  to  which  I 
am  condemned — those  are  my  life;  I  have  no  other.  A  few 
hours  hence  you  will  no  longer  look  upon  me  with  the  same 
eyes,  the  woman  you  love  will  be  dead.' 

"The  sculptor  did  not  reply.  He  was  seized  with  a  dull 
rage  which  contracted  his  heart.  He  could  do  nothing  but 
gaze  at  that  extraordinary  woman,  with  inflamed,  burning 
eyes.  That  feeble  voice,  La  Zambinella's  attitude,  manners, 
and  gestures,  instinct  with  dejection,  melancholy,  and  dis- 
couragement, reawakened  in  his  soul  all  the  treasures  of  pas- 
sion. Each  word  was  a  spur.  At  that  moment,  they  arrived 
at  Frascati.  When  the  artist  held  out  his  arms  to  help  his 
mistress  to  alight,  he  felt  that  she  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

"  'What  is  the  matter  ?  You  would  kill  me,'  he  cried,  seeing 
that  she  turned  pale,  'if  you  should  suffer  the  slightest  pain 
of  which  I  am,  even  innocently,  the  cause.' 

"  'A  snake !'  she  said,  pointing  to  a  reptile  which  was  glid- 
ing along  the  edge  of  a  ditch.  'I  am  afraid  of  the  disgusting 
creatures.' 

"Sarrasine  crushed  the  snake's  head  with  a  blow  of  his  foot. 

"  'How  could  you  dare  to  do  it  ?'  said  La  Zambinella,  gaz- 
ing at  the  dead  reptile  with  visible  terror. 

"'Aha!'  said  the  artist,  with  a  smile,  'would  you  venture 
to  say  now  that  you  are  not  a  woman  ?' 

"They  joined  their  companions  and  walked  through  the 
woods  of  Villa  Ludovisi,  which  at  that  time  belonged  to  Car- 
dinal Cicognara.  The  morning  passed  all  too  swiftly  for  the 
amorous  sculptor,  but  it  was  crowded  with  incidents  which 
laid  bare  to  him  the  coquetry,  the  weakness,  the  daintiness,  of 
that  pliant,  inert  soul.  She  was  a  true  woman  with  her  sud- 
den terrors,  her  unreasoning  caprices,  her  instinctive  worries, 


318  SARRASINE 

her  causeless  audacity,  her  bravado,  and  her  fascinating  deli- 
cacy of  feeling.  At  one  time,  as  the  merry  little  party  of  sing- 
ers ventured  out  into  the  open  country,  they  saw  at  some  dis- 
tance a  number  of  men  armed  to  the  teeth,  whose  costume  was 
by  no  means  reassuring.  At  the  words,  'Those  are  brigands !' 
they  all  quickened  their  pace  in  order  to  reach  the  shelter  of 
the  wall  enclosing  the  cardinal's  villa.  At  that  critical  mo- 
ment Sarrasine  saw  from  La  Zambinella's  manner  that  she  no 
longer  had  strength  to  walk ;  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  car- 
ried her  for  some  distance,  running.  When  he  was  within 
call  of  a  vineyard  near  by,  he  set  his  mistress  down. 

"  'Tell  me/  he  said,  'why  it  is  that  this  extreme  weakness, 
which  in  another  woman  would  be  hideous,  would  disgust  me, 
so  that  the  slightest  indication  of  it  would  be  enough  to  de- 
stroy my  love, — why  is  it  that  in  you  it  pleases  me,  fascinates 
me  ?  Oh,  how  I  love  you !'  he  continued.  'All  your  faults, 
your  frights,  your  petty  foibles,  add  an  indescribable  charm 
to  your  character.  I  feel  that  I  should  detest  a  Sappho,  a 
strong,  courageous  woman,  overflowing  with  energy  and  pas- 
sion. 0  sweet  and  fragile  creature !  how  couldst  thou  be 
otherwise  ?  That  angel's  voice,  that  refined  voice,  would  have 
been  an  anachronism  coming  from  any  other  breast  than 
thine.' 

"  'I  can  give  you  no  hope,'  she  said.  Tease  to  speak  thus 
to  me,  for  people  would  make  sport  of  you.  It  is  impossible 
for  me  to  shut  the  door  of  the  theatre  to  you ;  but  if  you  love 
me,  or  if  you  are  wise,  you  will  come  there  no  more.  Listen  to 
me,  monsieur,'  she  continued  in  a  grave  voice. 

"  'Oh,  hush  !'  said  the  excited  artist.  'Obstacles  inflame  the 
love  in  my  heart.' 

"La  Zambinella  maintained  a  graceful  and  modest  attitude ; 
but  she  held  her  peace,  as  if  a  terrible  thought  had  suddenly 
revealed  some  catastrophe.  When  it  was  time  to  return  to 
Eome  she  entered  a  berlin  with  four  seats,  bidding  the  sculp- 
tor, with  a  cruelly  imperious  air,  to  return  alone  in  the  phae- 
ton. On  the  road,  Sarrasine  determined  to  carry  off  La  Zam- 
binella. He  passed  the  whole  day  forming  plans,  each  more 


SARRASINE  -  319 

extravagant  than  the  last.  At  nightfall,  as  he  was  going  out 
to  inquire  of  somebody  where  his  mistress  lived,  he  met  one 
of  his  fellow-artists  at  the  door. 

"  'My  dear  fellow/  he  said,  'I  am  sent  by  our  ambassador 
to  invite  you  to  come  to  the  embassy  this  evening.  He  gives  a 
magnificent  concert,  and  when  I  tell  you  that  La  Zambinella 
will  be  there ' 

"  'Zambinella !'  cried  Sarrasine,  thrown  into  delirium  by 
that  name;  'I  am  mad  with  love  of  her.' 

"  'You  are  like  everybody  else/  replied  his  comrade. 

"  'But  if  you  are  friends  of  mine,  you  and  Vien  and  Lauter- 
bourg  and  Allegrain,  you  will  lend  me  your  assistance  for  "a 
coup  de  main,  after  the  entertainment,  will  you  not?'  asked 
Sarrasine. 

"  'There's  no  cardinal  to  be  killed  ?  no ?' 

"  'No,  no !'  said  Sarrasine,  'I  ask  nothing  of  you  that  men 
of  honor  may  not  do.' 

"In  a  few  moments  the  sculptor  laid  all  his  plans  to  as- 
sure the  success  of  his  enterprise.  He  was  one  of  the  last  to 
arrive  at  the  ambassador's,  but  he  went  thither  in  a  traveling 
carriage  drawn  by  four  stout  horses  and  driven  by  one  of  the 
most  skilful  vetturini  in  Rome.  The  ambassador's  palace 
was  .full  of  people;  not  without  difficulty  did  the  sculptor, 
whom  nobody  knew,  make  his  way  to  the  salon  where  La  Zam- 
binella was  singing  at  that  moment. 

"  'It  must  be  in  deference  to  all  the  cardinals,  bishops,  and 
abbes  who  are  here/  said  Sarrasine,  'that  she  is  dressed  as  a 
man,  that  she  has  curly  hair  which  she  wears  in  a  bag,  and 
that  she  has  a  sword  at  her  side?' 

"  'She !  what  she  ?'  rejoined  the  old  nobleman  whom  Sarra- 
sine addressed. 

"'La  Zambinella." 

"  'La  Zambinella !'  echoed  the  Roman  prince.  'Are  you 
jesting  ?  Whence  have  you  come  ?  Did  a  woman  ever  appear 
in  a  Roman  theatre  ?  And  do  you  not  know  what  sort  of  crea- 
tures play  female  parts  within  the  domains  of  the  Pope?  It 
was  I,  monsieur,  who  endowed  Zambinella  with  his  voice.  I 


320  SAKRASINE 

paid  all  the  knave's  expenses,  even  his  teacher  in  singing.  And 
he  has  so  little  gratitude  for  the  service  I  have  done  him  that 
he  has  never  been  willing  to  step  inside  my  house.  And  yet, 
if  he  makes  his  fortune,  he  will  owe  it  all  to  me.' 

"Prince  Chigi  might  have  talked  on  forever,  Sarrasine  did 
not  listen  to  him.  A  ghastly  truth  had  found  its  way  into  his 
mind.  He  was  stricken  as  if  by  a  thunderbolt.  He  stood  like 
a  statue,  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  singer.  His  flaming  glance 
exerted  a  sort  of  magnetic  influence  on  Zambinella,  for  he 
turned  his  eyes  at  last  in  Sarrasine's  direction,  and  his  divine 
voice  faltered.  He  trembled !  An  involuntary  murmur  es- 
caped the  audience,  which  he  held  fast  as  if  fastened  to  his 
lips;  and  that  completely  disconcerted  him;  he  stopped  in 
the  middle  of  the  aria  he  was  singing  and  sat  down.  Cardinal 
Cicognara,  who  had  watched  from  the  corner  of  his  eye  the 
direction  of  his  proteges  glance,  saw  the  Frenchman;  he 
leaned  toward  one  of  his  ecclesiastical  aides-de-camp,  and  ap- 
parently asked  the  sculptor's  name.  When  he  had  obtained 
the  reply  he  desired  he  scrutinized  the  artist  with  great  at- 
tention and  gave  orders  to  an  abbe,  who  instantly  disappeared. 
Meanwhile  Zambinella,  having  recovered  his  self-possession, 
resumed  the  aria  he  had  so  capriciously  broken  off;  but  he 
sang  badly,  and  refused,  despite  all  the  persistent  appeals 
showered  upon  him,  to  sing  anything  else.  It  was  the  first 
time  he  had  exhibited  that  humorsome  tyranny,  which,  at  a 
later  date,  contributed  no  less  to  his  celebrity  than  his  talent 
and  his  vast  fortune,  which  was  said  to  be  due  to  his  beauty 
as  much  as  to  his  voice. 

"  'It's  a  woman,'  said  Sarrasine,  thinking  that  no  one  could 
overhear  him.  'There's  some  secret  intrigue  beneath  all  this. 
Cardinal  Cicognara  is  hoodwinking  the  Pope  and  the  whole 
city  of  Rome !' 

"The  sculptor  at  once  left  the  salon,  assembled  his  friends, 
and  lay  in  wait  in  the  courtyard  of  the  palace.  When  Zam- 
binella was  assured  of  Sarrasine's  departure  he  seemed  to 
recover  his  tranquillity  in  some  measure.  About  midnight, 
after  -wandering  through  the  salons  like  a  man  looking  for  ar> 


SARRASINE  321 

enemy,  the  musico  left  the  party.  As  he  passed  through  the 
palace  gate  he  was  seized  by  men  who  deftly  gagged  him  with 
a  handkerchief  and  placed  him  in  the  carriage  hired  by  Sar- 
rasine.  Frozen  with  terror,  Zambinella  lay  back  in  a  corner, 
not  daring  to  move  a  muscle.  He  saw  before  him  the  terrible 
face  of  the  artist,  who  maintained  a  deathlike  silence.  The 
journey  was  a  short  one.  Zambinella,  kidnapped  by  Sarra- 
sine,  soon  found  himself  in  a  dark,  bare  studio.  He  sat,  half 
dead,  upon  a  chair,  hardly  daring  to  glance  at  a  statue  of  a 
woman,  in  which  he  recognized  his  own  features.  He  did  not 
utter  a  word,  but  his  teeth  were  chattering;  he  was  paralyzed 
with  fear.  Sarrasine  was  striding  up  and  down  the  studio. 
Suddenly  he  halted  in  front  of  Zambinella. 

"  'Tell  me  the  truth/  he  said,  in  a  changed  and  hollow  voice. 
'Are  you  not  a  woman?  Cardinal  Cicognara ' 

"Zambinella  fell  on  his  knees,  and  replied  only  by  hanging 
his  head. 

"  'Ah !  you  are  a  woman !'  cried  the  artist  in  a  frenzy;  'for 
even  a ' 

"He  did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"  'No/  he  continued,  'even  he  could  not  be  so  utterly  base/ 

"  'Oh,  do  not  kill  me  !'  cried  Zambinella,  bursting  into  tears. 
'I  consented  to  deceive  you  only  to  gratify  my  comrades,  who 
wanted  an  opportunity  to  laugh/ 

"  'Laugh !'  echoed  the  sculptor,  in  a  voice  in  which  there  was 
a  ring  of  infernal  ferocity.  'Laugh!  laugh!  You  dared  to 
make  sport  of  a  man's  passion — you?' 

"  'Oh,  mercy  !'  cried  Zambinella. 

"  'I  ought  to  kill  you !'  shouted  Sarrasine,  drawing  his  sword 
fn  an  outburst  of  rage.  'But/  he  continued,  with  cold  dis- 
dain, 'if  I  searched  your  whole  being  with  this  blade,  should  I 
find  there  any  sentiment  to  blot  out,  anything  with  which  to 
satisfy  my  thirst  for  vengeance  ?  You  are  nothing !  If  you 
were  a  man  or  a  woman,  I  would  kill  you,  but ' 

"Sarrasine  made  a  gesture  of  disgust,  and  turned  his  face 
away;  thereupon  he  noticed  the  statue. 

"  'And  that  is  a  delusion !'  he  cried. 


322  SARKASINE 

"Then,  turning  to  Zambinella  once  more,  he  continued: 

"  'A  woman's  heart  was  to  me  a  place  of  refuge,  a  father- 
land. Have  you  sisters  who  resemble  you  ?  No.  Then  die ! 
But  no,  you  shall  live.  To  leave  you  your  life  is  to  doom  you 
to  a  fate  worse  than  death.  I  regret  neither  my  hlood  nor 
my  life,  but  my  future  and  the  fortune  of  my  heart.  Your 
weak  hand  has  overturned  my  happiness.  What  hope  can  I 
extort  from  you  in  place  of  all  those  you  have  destroyed? 
You  have  brought  me  down  to  your  level.  To  love,  to  be  loved! 
are  henceforth  meaningless  words  to  me,  as  to  you.  I  shall 
never  cease  to  think  of  that  imaginary  woman  when  I  see  a 
real  woman.' 

"He  pointed  to  the  statue  with  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"  'I  shall  always  have  in  my  memory  a  divine  harpy  who 
will  bury  her  talons  in  all  my  manly  sentiments,  and  who 
will  stamp  all  other  women  with  a  seal  of  imperfection.  Mon- 
ster !  you,  who  can  give  life  to  nothing,  have  swept  all  women 
off  the  face  of  the  earth.' 

"Sarrasine  seated  himself  in  front  of  the  terrified  singer. 
Two  great  tears  came  from  his  dry  eyes,  rolled  down  his 
swarthy  cheeks,  and  fell  to  the  floor — two  tears  of  rage,  two 
scalding,  burning  tears. 

"  'An  end  of  love !  I  am  dead  to  all  pleasure,  to  all  human 
emotions !' 

"As  he  spoke,  he  seized  a  hammer  and  hurled  it  at  the  statue 
with  such  excessive  force  that  he  missed  it.  He  thought  that 
he  had  destroyed  that  monument  of  his  madness,  and  there- 
upon he  drew  his  sword  again,  and  raised  it  to  kill  the  singer. 
Zambinella  uttered  shriek  after  shriek.  Three  men  burst  into 
the  studio  at  that  moment,  and  the  sculptor  fell,  pierced  by 
three  daggers. 

"  'From  Cardinal  Cicognara/  said  one  of  the  men. 

"  'A  benefaction  worthy  of  a  Christian,'  retorted  the 
Frenchman,  as  he  breathed  his  last. 

"These  ominous  emissaries  told  Zambinella  of  the  anxiety 
of  his  patron,  who  was  waiting  at  the  door  in  a  closed  carriage 
in  order  to  take  him  away  as  soon  as  he  was  set  at  liberty." 


SARRASINE  323 

"But,"  said  Madame  de  Bochefide,  "what  connection  is 
there  between  this  story  and  the  little  old  man  we  saw  at  the 
Lantys'?" 

"Madame,  Cardinal  Cicognara  took  possession  of  Zambi- 
nella's  statue  and  had  it  reproduced  in  marble;  it  is  in  the 
Albani  Museum  to-day.  In  1794  the  Lanty  family  discovered 
it  there,  and  asked  Vien  to  copy  it.  The  portrait  which 
showed  you  Zambinella  at  twenty,  a  moment  after  you  had 
seen  him  as  a  centenarian,  afterward  figured  in  Girodet's 
Endymion;  you  yourself  recognized  the  type  in  Adonis" 

"But  this  Zambinella,  male  or  female ': 

"Must  be,  madame,  Marianina's  maternal  great  uncle.  You 
can  conceive  now  Madame  de  Lanty's  interest  in  concealing 
the  source  of  a  fortune  which  comes " 

"Enough !"  said  she,  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

We  remained  for  a  moment  in  the  most  profound  silence. 

"Well?"  I  said  at  last. 

"Ah !"  she  cried,  rising  and  pacing  the  floor. 

She  came  and  looked  me  in  the  face,  and  said  in  an  altered 
voice : 

"You  have  disgusted  me  with  life  and  passion  for  a  long 
time  to  come.  Leaving  monstrosities  aside,  are  not  all  human 
sentiments  dissolved  thus,  by  ghastly  disillusionment?  Chil- 
dren torture  mothers  by  their  bad  conduct,  or  their  lack  of 
affection.  Wives  are  betrayed.  Mistresses  are  cast  aside, 
abandoned.  Talk  of  friendship !  Is  there  such  a  thing !  I 
would  turn  pious  to-morrow  if  I  did  not  know  that  I  can  re- 
main like  the  inaccessible  summit  of  a  cliff  amid  the  tempests 
of  life.  If  the  future  of  the  Christian  is  an  illusion  too,  at  all 
events  it  is  not  destroyed  until  after  death.  Leave  me  to  my- 
self." 

"Ah !"  said  I,  "you  know  how  to  punish." 

"Am  I  in  the  wrong?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  with  a  sort  of  desperate  courage.  "By 
finishing  this  story,  which  is  well  known  in  Italy,  I  can  give 
you  an  excellent  idea  of  the  progress  made  by  the  civilization 
of  the  present  day.  There  are  none  of  those  wretched  crea- 
tures now." 


324  SARRASINE 

"Paris,"  said  she,  "is  an  exceedingly  hospitable  place;  it 
welcomes  one  and  all,  fortunes  stained  with  shame,  and  for- 
tunes stained  with  blood.  Crime  and  infamy  have  a  right  of 
asylum  here ;  virtue  alone  is  without  altars.  But  pure  hearts 
have  a  fatherland  in  heaven !  No  one  will  have  known  me ! 
I  am  proud  of  it." 

And  the  marchioness  was  lost  in  thought. 


FACING  CANE 

I  ONCE  used  to  V  re  in  a  little  street  which  probably  is  not 
known  to  you — the  Hue  de  Lesdiguieres.  It  is  a  turning 
out  of  the  Rue  Saint-Antoine,  beginning  just  opposite  a  foun- 
tain near  the  Place  de  la  Bastille,  and  ending  in  the  Rue  de 
la  Cerisaie.  Love  of  knowledge  stranded  me  in  a  garret;  my 
nights  I  spent  in  work,  my  days  in  reading  at  the  Bibliotheque 
d'Orleans,  close  by.  I  lived  frugally,  I  had  accepted  the  con- 
ditions of  the  monastic  life,  necessary  conditions  for  every 
worker,  scarcely  permitting  myself  a  walk  along  the  Boulevard 
Bourdon  when  the  weather  was  fine.  One  passion  only  had 
power  to  draw  me  from  my  studies;  and  yet,  what  was  that 
passion  but  a  study  of  another  kind?  I  used  to  watch  the 
manners  and  customs  of  the  Faubourg,  its  inhabitants,  and 
their  characteristics.  As  I  dressed  no  better  than  a  working 
man,  and  cared  nothing  for  appearances,  I  did  not  put  them 
on  their  guard;  I  could  join  a  group  and  look  on  while  they 
drove  bargains  or  wrangled  among  themselves  on  their  way 
home  from  work.  Even  then  observation  had  come  to  be  an 
instinct  with  me ;  a  faculty  of  penetrating  to  the  soul  without 
neglecting  the  body;  or  rather,  a  power  of  grasping  external 
details  so  thoroughly  that  they  never  detained  me  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  at  once  I  passed  beyond  and  through  them.  I  could 
enter  into  the  life  of  the  human  creatures  whom  I  watched, 
just  as  the  dervish  in  the  Arabian  Nights  could  pass  into  any 
soul  or  body  after  pronouncing  a  certain  formula. 

If  I  met  a  working  man  and  his  wife  in  the  streets  between 
eleven  o'clock  and  midnight  on  their  way  home  from  the  Am- 
bigu  Comique,  I  used  to  amuse  myself  by  following  them 
from  the  Boulevard  du  Pont  aux  Choux  to  the  Boulevard 
Beanmarchais.  The  good  folk  would  begin  by  talking  about 
the  play;  then  from  one  thing  to  another  they  would  come  to 


326  FACING  CANE 

their  own  affairs,  and  the  mother  would  walk  on  and  on,  heed- 
less of  complaints  or  question  from  the  little  one  that  dragged 
at  her  hand,  while  she  and  her  husband  reckoned  up  the  wages 
to  be  paid  on  the  morrow,  and  spent  the  money  in  a  score  of 
different  ways.  Then  came  domestic  details,  lamentations 
over  the  excessive  dearness  of  potatoes,  or  the  length  of  the 
winter  and  the  high  price  of  block  fuel,  together  with  forcible 
representations  of  amounts  owing  to  the  baker,  ending  in  an 
acrimonious  dispute,  in  the  course  of  which  such  couples 
reveal  their  characters  in  picturesque  language.  As  I  listened, 
I  could  make  their  lives  mine,  I  felt  their  rags  on  my  back,  I 
walked  with  their  gaping  shoes  on  my  feet;  their  cravings, 
their  needs,  had  all  passed  into  my  soul,  or  my  soul  had  passed 
into  theirs.  It  was  the  dream  of  a  waking  man.  I  waxed  hot 
with  them  over  the  foreman's  tyranny,  or  the  bad  customers 
that  made  them  call  again  and  again  for  payment. 

To  come  out  of  my  own  ways  of  life,  to  be  another  than  my- 
self through  a  kind  of  intoxication  of  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties, and  to  play  this  game  at  will,  such  was  my  recreation. 
Whence  comes  the  gift  ?  Is  it  a  kind  of  second  sight  ?  Is  it 
one  of  those  powers  which  when  abused  end  in  madness?  I 
have  never  tried  to  discover  its  source;  I  possess  it,  I  use  it, 
that  is  all.  But  this  it  behoves  you  to  know,  that  in  those  days 
I  began  to  resolve  the  heterogeneous  mass  known  as  the  People 
into  its  elements,  and  to  evaluate  its  good  and  bad  qualities. 
Even  then  I  realized  the  possibilities  of  my  suburb,  that  hot- 
bed of  revolution  in  which  heroes,  inventors,  and  practical 
men  of  science,  rogues  and  scoundrels,  virtues  and  vices,  were 
all  packed  together  by  poverty,  stifled  by  necessity,  drowned 
in  drink,  and  consumed  by  ardent  spirits. 

You  would  not  imagine  how  many  adventures,  how  many 
tragedies,  lie  buried  away  out  of  sight  in  that  Dolorous  City ; 
how  much  horror  and  beauty  lurks  there.  No  imagination 
can  reach  the  Truth,  no  one  can  go  down  into  that  city  to  make 
discoveries ;  for  one  must  needs  descend  too  low  into  its  depths 
to  see  the  wonderful  scenes  of  tragedy  or  comedy  enacted 
there,  the  masterpieces  brought  forth  by  chance. 


FACING  CANE  327 

I  do  not  know  how  it  is  that  I  have  kept  the  following  story 
BO  long  untold.  It  is  one  of  the  curious  things  that  stop  in  the 
bag  from  which  Memory  draws  out  stories  at  haphazard,  like 
numbers  in  a  lottery.  There  are  plenty  of  tales  just  as 
strange  and  just  as  well  hidden  still  left;  but  some  day,  you 
may  be  sure,  their  turn  will  come. 

One  day  my  charwoman,  a  working  man's  wife,  came  to 
beg  me  to  honor  her  sister's  wedding  with  my  presence.  If 
you  are  to  realize  what  this  wedding  was  like,  you  must  know 
that  I  paid  my  charwoman,  poor  creature,  four  francs  a 
month;  for  which  sum  she  came  every  morning  to  make  my 
bed,  clean  my  shoes,  brush  my  clothes,  sweep  the  room,  and 
make  ready  my  breakfast,  before  going  to  her  day's  work  of 
turning  the  handle  of  a  machine,  at  which  hard  drudgery  she 
earned  five-pence.  Her  husband,  a  cabinetmaker,  made  four 
francs  a  day  at  his  trade;  but  as  they  had  three  children,  it 
was  all  that  they  could  do  to  gain  an  honest  living.  Yet  I 
have  never  met  with  more  sterling  honesty  than  in  this  man 
and  wife.  For  five  years  after  I  left  the  quarter,  Mere  Vail- 
lant  used  to  come  on  my  birthday  with  a  bunch  of  flowers  and 
some  oranges  for  me — she  that  had  never  a  sixpence  to  put  by ! 
Want  had  drawn  us  together.  I  never  could  give  her  more 
than  a  ten-franc  piece,  and  often  I  had  to  borrow  the  money 
for  the  occasion.  This  will  perhaps  explain  my  promise  to 
go  to  the  wedding ;  I  hoped  to  efface  myself  in  these  poor  peo- 
ple's merry-making. 

The  banquet  and  the  ball  were  given  on  a  first  floor  above 
a  wineshop  in  the  Hue  de  Charenton.  It  was  a  large  room, 
lighted  by  oil  lamps  with  tin  reflectors.  A  row  of  wooden 
benches  ran  round  the  walls,  which  were  black  with  grime  to 
the  height  of  the  tables.  Here  some  eighty  persons,  all  in 
their  Sunday  best,  tricked  out  with  ribbons  and  bunches  of 
flowers,  all  of  them  on  pleasure  bent,  were  dancing  away  with 
heated  visages  as  if  the  world  were  about  to  come  to  an  end. 
Bride  and  bridegroom  exchanged  salutes  to  the  general  satis- 
faction, amid  a  chorus  of  facetious  "Oh,  ohs !"  and  "Ah,  ahs !" 


328  FACING  CANE 

less  really  indecent  than  the  furtive  glances  of  young  girls 
that  have  been  well  brought  up.  There  was  something  inde- 
scribably infectious  about  the  rough,  homely  enjoyment  in  all 
countenances. 

But  neither  the  faces,  nor  the  wedding,  nor  the  wedding- 
guests  have  anything  to  do  with  my  story.  Simply  bear  them 
in  mind  as  the  odd  setting  to  it.  Try  to  realize  the  scene, 
the  shabby  red-painted  wineshop,  the  smell  of  wine,  the  yells 
of  merriment ;  try  to  feel  that  you  are  really  in  the  faubourg, 
among  old  people,  working  men  and  poor  women  giving  them- 
selves up  to  a  night's  enjoyment. 

The  band  consisted  of  a  fiddle,  a  clarionet,  and  a  flageolet 
from  the  Blind  Asylum.  The  three  were  paid  seven  francs 
in  a  lump  sum  for  the  night.  For  the  money,  they  gave  us, 
not  Beethoven  certainly,  nor  yet  Eossini ;  they  played  as  they 
had  the  will  and  the  skill;  and  every  one  in  the  room  (with 
charming  delicacy  of  feeling)  refrained  from  finding  fault. 
The  music  made  such  a  brutal  assault  on  the  drum  of  my 
ear,  that  after  a  first  glance  round  the  room  my  eyes  fell  at 
once  upon  the  blind  trio,  and  the  sight  of  their  uniform  in- 
clined me  from  the  first  to  indulgence.  As  the  artists  stood 
in  a  window  recess,  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  their  faces 
except  at  close  quarters,  and  I  kept  away  at  first;  but  when  I 
came  nearer  (I  hardly  know  why)  I  thought  of  nothing  else; 
the  wedding  party  and  the  music  ceased  to  exist,  my  curiosity 
was  roused  to  the  highest  pitch,  for  my  soul  passed  into  the 
body  of  the  clarionet  player. 

The  fiddle  and  the  flageolet  were  neither  of  them  interest- 
ing ;  their  faces  were  of  the  ordinary  type  among  the  blind — • 
earnest,  attentive,  and  grave.  Not  so  the  clarionet  player ;  any 
artist  or  philosopher  must  have  come  to  a  stop  at  the  sight  of 
him. 

Picture  to  yourself  a  plaster  mask  of  Dante  in  the  red  lamp- 
light, with  a  forest  of  silver-white  hair  above  the  brows.  Blind- 
ness intensified  the  expression  of  bitterness  and  sorrow  in  that 
grand  face  of  his;  the  dead  eyes  were  lighted  up,  as  it  were, 
by  a  thought  within  that  broke  forth  like  a  burning  flame,  lit 


FACING  CANE  329 

by  one  sole  insatiable  desire,  written  large  in  vigorous  char- 
acters upon  an  arching  brow  scored  across  with  as  many  lines 
as  an  old  stone  wall. 

The  old  man  was  playing  at  random,  without  the  slightest 
regard  for  time  or  tune.  His  fingers  traveled  mechanically 
over  the  worn  keys  of  his  instrument ;  he  did  not  trouble  him- 
self over  a  false  note  now  and  again  (a  canard,,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  orchestra),  neither  did  the  dancers,  nor,  for  that 
matter,  did  my  old  Italian's  acolytes ;  for  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  that  he  must  be  an  Italian,  and  an  Italian  he  was.  There 
was  something  great,  something  too  of  the  despot  about  this 
old  Homer  bearing  within  him  an  Odyssey  doomed  to  oblivion. 
The  greatness  was  so  real  that  it  triumphed  over  his  abject  po- 
sition ;  the  despotism  so  much  a  part  of  him,  that  it  rose  above 
his  poverty. 

There  are  violent  passions  which  drive  a  man  to  good  or 
evil,  making  of  him  a  hero  or  a  convict ;  of  these  there  was 
not  one  that  had  failed  to  leave  its  traces  on  the  grandly-hewn, 
lividly  Italian  face.  You  trembled  lest  a  flash  of  thought 
should  suddenly  light  up  the  deep  sightless  hollows  under  the 
grizzled  brows,  as  you  might. fear  to  see  brigands  with  torches 
and  poniards  in  the  mouth  of  a  cavern.  You  felt  that  there 
was  a  lion  in  that  cage  of  flesh,  a  lion  spent  with  useless  rag- 
ing against  iron  bars.  The  fires  of  despair  had  burned  them- 
selves out  into  ashes,  the  lava  had  cooled;  but  the  tracks  of 
the  flames,  the  wreckage,  and  a  little  smoke  remained  to  bear 
witness  to  the  violence  of  the  eruption,  the  ravages  of  the  fire. 
These  images  crowded  up  at  the  sight  of  the  clarionet  player, 
till  the  thoughts  now  grown  cold  in  his  face  burned  hot  within 
my  soul. 

The  fiddle  and  the  flageolet  took  a  deep  interest  in  bottles 
and  glasses;  at  the  end  of  a  country-dance,  they  hung  their 
instruments  from  a  button  on  their  reddish-colored  coats,  and 
stretched  out  their  hands  to  a  little  table  set  in  the  window 
recess  to  hold  their  liquor  supply.  Each  time  they  did  so  they 
held  out  a  full  glass  to  the  Italian,  who  could  not  reach  it  for 
himself  because  he  sat  in  front  of  the  table,  and  each  time 


330  FACING  CANE 

the  Italian  thanked  them  with  a  friendly  nod.  All  their 
movements  were  made  with  the  precision  which  always  amazes 
you  so  much  at  the  Blind  Asylum.  You  could  almost  think 
that  they  can  see.  I  came  nearer  to  listen ;  but  when  I  stood 
beside  them,  they  evidently  guessed  I  was  not  a  working  man, 
and  kept  themselves  to  themselves. 

"What  part  of  the  world  do  you  come  from,  you  that  are 
playing  the  clarionet?" 

"From  Venice,"  he  said,  with  a  trace  of  Italian  accent. 

"Have  you  always  been  blind,  or  did  it  come  on  after- 
wards  ?" 

"Afterwards,"  he  answered  quickly.  "A  cursed  gutta  se- 
rena." 

"Venice  is  a  fine  city;  I  have  always  had  a  fancy  to  go 
there." 

The  old  man's  face  lighted  up,  the  wrinkles  began  to  work, 
he  was  violently  excited. 

"If  I  went  with  you,  you  would  not  lose  your  time,"  he  said. 

"Don't  talk  about  Venice  to  our  Doge,"  put  in  the  fiddle, 
"or  you  will  start  him  off,  and  he  has  stowed  away  a  couple 
of  bottles  as  it  is — has  the  prince  !" 

"Come,  strike  up,  Daddy  Canard !"  added  the  flageolet,  and 
the  three  began  to  play.  But  while  they  executed  the  four 
figures  of  a  square  dance,  the  Venetian  was  scenting  my 
thoughts;  he  guessed  the  great  interest  I  felt  in  him.  The 
dreary,  dispirited  look  died  out  of  his  face,  some  mysterious 
hope  brightened  his  features  and  slid  like  a  blue  flame  over  his 
wrinkles.  He  smiled  and  wiped  his  brow,  that  fearless,  ter- 
rible brow  of  his,  and  at  length  grew  gay  like  a  man  mounted 
on  his  hobby. 

"How  old  are  you?"  I  asked. 

"Eighty-two." 

"How  long  have  you  been  blind?" 

"For  very  nearly  fifty  years,"  he  said,  and  there  was  that  in 
his  tone  which  told  me  that  his  regret  was  for  something  more 
than  his  lost  sight,  for  great  power  of  which  he  had  been 
robbed. 


FACIXO  CANE  331 

"Then  why  do  they  call  you  'the  Doge'  ?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  it  is  a  joke.  I  am  a  Venetian  noble,  and  I  might  have 
been  a  doge  like  any  one  else." 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"Here,  in  Paris,  I  am  Pere  Canet,"  he  said.  "It  was  the 
only  way  of  spelling  my  name  on  the  register.  But  in  Italy  I 
am  Marco  Facino  Cane,  Prince  of  Varese." 

"What,  are  you  descended  from  the  great  condottiere  Facino 
Cane,  whose  lands  won  by  the  sword  were  taken  by  the  Dukes 
of  Milan?". 

"E  vero"  returned  he.  "His  son's  life  was  not  safe  under 
the  Visconti;  he  fled  to  Venice,  and  his  name  was  inscribed 
on  the  Golden  Book.  And  now  neither  Cane  nor  Golden 
Book  are  in  existence."  His  gesture  startled  me;  it  told  of 
patriotism  extinguished  and  weariness  of  life. 

"But  if  you  were  once  a  Venetian  senator,  you  must  have 
been  a  wealthy  man.  How  did  you  lose  your  fortune?" 

"In  evil  days." 

He  waved  away  the  glass  of  wine  handed  to  him  by  the 
flageolet,  and  bowed  his  head.  He  had  no  heart  to  drink. 
These  details  were  not  calculated  to  extinguish  my  curiosity. 

As  the  three  ground  out  the  music  of  the  square  dance,  I 
gazed  at  the  old  Venetian  noble,  thinking  thoughts  that  set  a 
young  man's  mind  afire  at  the  age  of  twenty.  I  saw  Venice 
and  the  Adriatic;  I  saw  her  ruin  in  the  ruin  of  the  face  before 
me.  I  walked  to  and  fro  in  that  city,  so  beloved  of  her  citi- 
zens ;  I  went  from  the  Rialto  Bridge,  along  the  Grand  Canal, 
and  from  the  Kiva  degli  Schiavoni  to  the  Lido,  returning  to 
St.  Mark's,  that  cathedral  so  unlike  all  others  in  its  sublimity. 
I  looked  up  at  the  windows  of  the  Casa  Doro,  each  with  its 
different  sculptured  ornaments ;  I  saw  old  palaces  rich  in  mar- 
bles, saw  all  the  wonders  which  a  student  beholds  with  the 
more  sympathetic  eyes  because  visible  things  take  their  color 
of  his  fancy,  and  the  sight  of  realities  cannot  rob  him  of  the 
glory  of  his  dreanio.  Then  I  traced  back  a  course  of  life  for 
this  latest  scion  of  a  race  of  condottieri,  tracking  down  his 
misfortunes,  looking  for  the  reasons  of  the  deep  moral  and 


332  FACING  CANE 

physical  degradation  out  of  which  the  lately  revived  sparks 
of  greatness  and  nobility  shone  so  much  the  more  brightly. 
My  ideas,  no  doubt,  were  passing  through  his  mind,  for  all 
processes  of  thought-communications  are  far  more  swift,  I 
think,  in  blind  people,  because  their  blindness  compels  them 
to  concentrate  their  attention.  I  had  not  long  to  wait  for 
proof  that  we  were  in  sympathy  in  this  way.  Facino  Cane 
left  off  playing,  and  came  up  to  me.  "Let  us  go  out !"  he  said ; 
his  tones  thrilled  through  me  like  an  electric  shock.  I  gave 
him  my  arm,  and  we  went. 

Outside  in  the  street  he  said,  "Will  you  take  me  back  to 
Venice?  will  you  be  my  guide?  Will  you  put  faith  in  me? 
You  shall  be  richer  than  ten  of  the  richest  houses  in  Amster- 
dam or  London,  richer  than  Eothschild;  in  short,  you  shall 
have  the  fabulous  wealth  of  the  Arabian  Nights" 

The  man  was  mad,  I  thought ;  but  in  his  voice  there  was  a 
potent  something  which  I  obeyed.  I  allowed  him  to  lead,  and 
he  went  in  the  direction  of  the  Fosses  de  la  Bastille,  as  if  he 
could  see;  walking  till  he  reached  a  lonely  spot  down  by  the 
river,  just  where  the  bridge  has  since  been  built  at  the 
junction  of  the  Canal  Saint-Martin  and  the  Seine.  Here  he 
sat  down  on  a  stone,  and  I,  sitting  opposite  to  him,  saw  the 
old  man's  hair  gleaming  like  threads  of  silver  in  the  moon- 
light. The  stillness  was  scarcely  troubled  by  the  sound  of  the 
far-off  thunder  of  traffic  along  the  boulevards;  the  clear 
night  air  and  everything  about  us  combined  to  make  a 
strangely  unreal  scene. 

"You  talk  of  millions  to  a  young  man,"  I  began,  "and  do 
you  think  that  he  will  shrink  from  enduring  any  number  of 
hardships  to  gain  them  ?  Are  you  not  laughing  at  me  ?" 

"May  I  die  unshriven,"  he  cried  vehemently,  "if  all  that 
I  am  about  to  tell  you  is  not  true.  I  was  one-and-twenty 
years  old,  like  you  at  this  moment.  I  was  rich,  I  was  hand- 
some, and  a  noble  by  birth.  I  began  with  the  first  madness 
of  all — with  Love.  I  loved  as  no  one  can  love  nowadays.  I 
I  have  hidden  myself  in  a  chest,  at  the  risk  of  a  dagger  thrust, 
for  nothing  more  than  the  promise  of  a  kiss.  To  die  for  Her 


Here  he  sat  down  on  a  stone 


FACING  CANE  333 

— it  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  whole  life  in  itself.  In  1760  I 
fell  in  love  with  a  lady  of  the  Vendramin  family;  she  was 
eighteen  years  old,  and  married  to  a  Sagredo,  one  of  the 
richest  senators,  a  man  of  thirty,  madly  in  love  with  his  wife. 
My  mistress  and  I  were  guiltless  as  cheruhs  when  the  sposo 
caught  us  together  talking  of  love.  He  was  armed,  I  was  not, 
but  he  missed  me ;  I  sprang  upon  him  and  killed  him  with  my 
two  hands,  wringing  his  neck  as  if  he  had  been  a  chicken. 
I  wanted  Bianca  to  fly  with  me ;  but  she  would  not.  That  is 
the  way  with  women !  So  I  went  alone.  I  was  condemned 
to  death,  and  my  property  was  confiscated  and  made  over  to 
my  next-of-kin;  but  I  had  carried  off  my  diamonds,  five  of 
Titian's  pictures  taken  down  from  their  frames  and  rolled  up, 
and  all  my  gold. 

"I  went  to  Milan,  no  one  molested  me,  my  affair  in  nowise 
interested  the  State. — One  small  observation  before  I  go  fur- 
ther," he  continued,  after  a  pause,  "whether  it  is  true  or  no 
that  the  mother's  fancies  at  the  time  of  conception  or  in  the 
months  before  birth  can  influence  her  child,  this  much  is  cer- 
tain, my  mother  during  her  pregnancy  had  a  passion  for  gold, 
and  I  am  the  victim  of  a  monomania,  of  a  craving  for  gold 
which  must  be  gratified.  Gold  is  so  much  of  a  necessity  of  life 
for  me,  that  I  have  never  been  without  it ;  I  must  have  gold  to 
toy  with  and  finger.  As  a  young  man  I  always  wore  jewelry, 
and  carried  two  or  three  hundred  ducats  about  with  me  wher- 
ever I  went." 

He  drew  a  couple  of  gold  coins  from  his  pocket  and  showed 
them  to  me  as  he  spoke. 

"I  can  tell  by  instinct  when  gold  is  near.  Blind  as  I  am, 
I  stop  before  the  jeweler's  shop  windows.  That  passion  was 
the  ruin  of  me ;  I  took  to  gambling  to  play  with  gold.  I  was 
not  a  cheat,  I  was  cheated,  I  ruined  myself.  I  lost  all  my 
fortune.  Then  the  longing  to  see  Bianca  once  more  possessed 
me  like  a  frenzy.  I  stole  back  to  Venice  and  found  her  again. 
For  six  months  I  was  happy ;  she  hid  me  in  her  house  and  fed 
me.  I  thought  thus  delicidusly  to  finish  my  days.  But  the 
Provveditore  courted  her,  and  guessed  that  he  had  a  rival; 


334  FACING  CANE 

we  in  Italy  can  feel  that.  He  played  the  spy  upon  us,  and 
surprised  us  together  in  bed,  base  wretch.  You  may  judge 
what  a  fight  for  life  it  was;  I  did  not  kill  him  outright,  but 
I  wounded  him  dangerously. 

"That  adventure  broke  my  luck.  I  have  never  found 
another  Bianca;  I  have  known  great  pleasures;  but  among  the 
most  celebrated  women  at  the  court  of  Louis  XV.  I  never 
found  my  beloved  Venetian's  charm,  her  love,  her  great  quali- 
ties. 

"The  Provveditore  called  his  servants,  the  palace  was  sur- 
rounded and  entered;  I  fought  for  my  life  that  I  might  die 
beneath  Bianca's  eyes ;  Bianca  helped  me  to  kill  the  Provvedi- 
tore. Once  before  she  had  refused  flight  with 'me;  but  after 
six  months  of  happiness  she  wished  only  to  die  with  me,  and  re- 
ceived several  thrusts.  I  was  entangled  in  a  great  cloak  that 
they  flung  over  me,  carried  down  to  a  gondola,  and  hurried 
to  the  Pozzi  dungeons.  I  was  twenty-two  years  old.  I  gripped 
the  hilt  of  my  broken  sword  so  hard,  that  they  could  only  have 
taken  it  from  me  by. cutting  off  my  hand  at  the  wrist.  A  cu- 
rious chance,  or  rather  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  led  me 
to  hide  the  fragment  of  the  blade  in  a  corner  of  my  cell,  as  if 
it  might  still  be  of  use.  They  tended  me;  none  of  my  wounds 
were  serious.  At  two-and-twenty  one  can  recover  from  any- 
thing. I  was  to  lose  my  head  on  the  scaffold.  I  shammed  ill- 
ness to  gain  time.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  canal  lay  just  out- 
side my  cell.  I  thought  to  make  my  escape  by  boring  a  hole 
through  the  wall  and  swimming  for  my  life.  I  based  my  hopes 
on  the  following  reasons. 

"Every  time  that  the  jailer  came  with  my  food,  there  was 
light  enough  to  read  directions  written  on  the  walls — 
'Side  of  the  Palace,'  'Side  of  the  Canal/  'Side  of  the  Vaults.' 
At  last  I  saw  a  design  in  this,  but  I  did  not  trouble  myself 
much  about  the  meaning  of  it ;  the  actual  incomplete  condition 
of  the  Ducal  Palace  accounted  for  it.  The  longing  to  regain 
my  freedom  gave  me  something  like  genius.  Groping  about 
with  my  fingers,  I  spelled  out  an  Arabic  inscription  on  the 
wall.  The  author  of  the  work  informed  those  to  come  after 


FACING  CANE  335 

him  that  he  had  loosed  two  stones  in  the  lowest  course  of 
masonry  and  hollowed  out  eleven  feet  beyond  underground. 
As  he  went  on  with  his  excavations,  it  became  necessary  to 
spread  the  fragments  of  stone  and  mortar  over  the  floor  of 
his  cell.  But  even  if  jailers  and  inquisitors  had  not  felt  sure 
that  the  structure  of  the  buildings  was  such  that  no  watch 
was  needed  below,  the  level  of  the  Pozzi  dungeons  being  sev- 
eral steps  below  the  threshold,  it  was  possible  gradually  to 
raise  the  earthen  floor  without  exciting  the  warder's  sus- 
picions. 

"The  tremendous  labor  had  profited  nothing — nothing  at 
least  to  him  that  began  it.  The  very  fact  that  it  was  left  un- 
finished told  of  the  unknown  worker's  death.  Unless  his  de- 
voted toil  was  to  be  wasted  for  ever,  his  successor  must  have 
some  knowledge  of  Arabic,-  but  I  had  studied  Oriental  lan- 
guages at  the  Armenian  Convent.  A  few  words  written  on 
the  back  of  the  stone  recorded  the  unhappy  man's  fate ;  he  had 
fallen  a  victim  to  his  great  possessions;  Venice  had  coveted 
his  wealth  and  seized  upon  it.  A  whole  month  went  by  before 
I  obtained  any  result;  but  whenever  I  felt  my  strength  fail- 
ing as  I  worked,  I  heard  the  chink  of  gold,  I  saw  gold  spread 
before  me,  I  was  dazzled  by  diamonds. — Ah !  wait. 

"One  night  my  blunted  steel  struck  on  wood.  I  whetted 
the  fragment  of  my  blade  and  cut  a  hole ;  I  crept  on  my  belly 
like  a  serpent;  I  worked  naked  and  mole-fashion,  my  hands 
in  front  of  me,  using  the  stone  itself  to  gain  a  purchase.  I 
was  to  appear  before  my  judges  in  two  days'  time,  I  made 
a  final  effort,  and  that  night  I  bored  through  the  wood  and 
felt  that  there  was  space  beyond. 

"Judge  of  my  surprise  when  I  applied  my  eye  to  the  hole. 
I  was  in  the  ceiling  of  a  vault,  heaps  of  gold  were  dimly 
visible  in  the  faint  light.  The  Doge  himself  and  one  of  the 
Ten  stood  below;  I  could  hear  their  voices  and  sufficient  of 
their  talk  to  know  that  this  was  the  Secret  Treasury  of  the 
Republic,  full  of  the  gifts  of  Doges  and  reserves  of  booty 
called  the  Tithe  of  Venice  from  the  spoils  of  military  expedi- 
tions. I  was  saved ! 


336  FACING  CANE 

"When  the  jailer  came  I  proposed  that  he  should  help  me 
to  escape  and  fly  with  me,  and  that  we  should  take  with  us 
as  much  as  we  could  carry.  There  was  no  reason  for  hesita- 
tion; he  agreed.  Vessels  were  about  to  sail  for  the  Levant. 
All  possible  precautions  were  taken.  Bianca  furthered  the 
schemes  which  I  suggested  to  my  accomplice.  It  was  ar- 
ranged that  Bianca  should  only  rejoin  us  in  Smyrna  for  fear 
of  exciting  suspicion.  In  a  single  night  the  hole  was  enlarged, 
and  we  dropped  down  into  the  Secret  Treasury  of  Venice. 

''What  a  night  that  was !  Four  great  casks  full  of  gold 
stood  there.  In  the  outer  room  silver  pieces  were  piled  in 
heaps,  leaving  a  gangway  between  by  which  to  cross  the  cham- 
ber. Banks  of  silver  coins  surrounded  the  walls  to  the  height 
of  five  feet. 

"I  thought  the  jailer  would  go  -mad.  He  sang  and  laughed 
and  danced  and  capered  among  the  gold,  till  I  threatened  to 
strangle  him  if  he  made  a  sound  or  wasted  time.  In  his  joy 
he  did  not  notice  at  first  the  table  where  the  diamonds  lay. 
I  flung  myself  upon  these,  and  deftly  filled  the  pockets  of 
my  sailor  jacket  and  trousers  with  the  stones.  Ah !  Heaven, 
I  did  not  take  the  third  of  them.  Gold  ignots  lay  underneath 
the  table.  I  persuaded  my  companion  to  fill  as  many  bags  as 
we  could  carry  with  the  gold,  and  made  him  understand  that 
this  was  our  only  chance  of  escaping  detection  abroad. 

"  Tearls,  rubies,  and  diamonds  might  be  recognized,'  I 
told  him. 

"Covetous  though  we  were,  we  could  not  possibly  take  more 
than  two  thousand  livres  weight  of  gold,  which  meant  six 
journeys  across  the  prison  to  the  gondola.  The  sentinel  at  the 
water  gate  was  bribed  with  a  bag  containing  ten  livres  weight 
of  gold ;  and  as  for  the  two  gondoliers,  they  believed  they  were 
serving  the  Republic.  At  daybreak  we  set  out. 

"Once  upon  the  open  sea,  when  I  thought  of  that  night, 
when  I  recollected  all  that  I  had  felt,  when  the  vision  of  that 
great  hoard  rose  before  my  eyes,  and  I  computed  that  I  had 
left  behind  thirty  millions  in  silver,  twenty  in  gold,  and 


FACING  CANE  337 

many  more  in  diamonds,  pearls,  and  rubies — then  a  sort  of 
madness  began  to  work  in  me.  I  had  the  gold  fever. 

"We  landed  at  Smyrna  and  took  ship  at  once  for  France. 
As  we  went  on  board  the  French  vessel,  Heaven  favored  me 
by  ridding  me  of  my  accomplice.  I  did  not  think  at  the  time 
of  all  the  possible  consequences  of  this  mishap,  and  rejoiced 
not  a  little.  We  were  so  completely  unnerved  by  all  that  had 
happened,  that  we  were  stupid,  we  said  not  a  word  to  each 
other,  we  waited  till  it  should  be  safe  to  enjoy  ourselves  at 
our  ease.  It  was  not  wonderful  that  the  rogue's  head  was 
dizzy.  You  shall  see  how  heavily  God  has  punished  me. 

"I  never  knew  a  quiet  moment  until  I  had  sold  two-thirds 
of  my  diamonds  in  London  or  Amsterdam,  and  held  the  value 
of  my  gold  dust  in  a  negotiable  shape.  For  five  years  I  hid 
myself  in  Madrid,  then  in  1770  I  came  to  Paris  with  a  Spanish 
name,  and  led  as  brilliant  a  life  as  may  be.  Then  in  the 
midst  of  my  pleasures,  as  I  enjoyed  a  fortune  of  six  millions, 
I  was  smitten  with  blindness.  I  do  not  doubt  but  that  my  in- 
firmitjr  was  brought  on  by  my  sojourn  in  the  cell  and  my  work 
in  the  stone,  if,  indeed,  my  peculiar  faculty  for  'seeing'  gold 
was  not  an  abuse  of  the  power  of  sight  which  predestined  me  to 
lose  it.  Bianca  was  dead. 

"At  this  time  I  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  woman  to 
whom  I  thought  to  link  my  fate.  I  had  told  her  the  secret 
.of  my  name;  she  belonged  to  a  powerful  family;  she  was  a 
friend  of  Mme.  du  Barry ;  I  hoped  everything  from  the  favor 
shown  me  by  Louis  XV.;  I  trusted  in  her.  Acting  on  her 
advice,  I  went  to  England  to  consult  a  famous  oculist,  and 
after  a  stay  of  several  months  in  London  she  deserted  me  in 
Hyde  Park.  She  had  stripped  me  of  all  that  I  had,  and  left 
me  without  resource.  Nor  could  I  make  complaint,  for  to 
disclose  my  name  was  to  lay  myself  open  to  the  vengeance  of 
my  native  city ;  I  could  appeal  to  no  one  for  aid,  I  feared  Ven- 
ice. The  woman  put  spies  about  me  to  exploit  my  infirmity. 
I  spare  you  a  tale  of  adventures  worthy  of  Gil  Bias. — Your 
Revolution  followed.  For  two  whole  years  that  creature 
kept  me  at  the  Bicetre  as  a  lunatic,  then  she  gained  admit- 


338  FACING  CANE 

tance  for  me  at  the  Blind  Asylum ;  there  was  no  help  for  it, 
I  went.  I  could  not  kill  her;  I  could  not  see;  and  I  was  so 
poor  that  I  could  not  pay  another  arm. 

"If  only  I  had  taken  counsel  with  my  jailer,  Benedetto 
Carpi,  before  I  lost  him,  I  might  have  known  the  exact  posi- 
tion of  my  cell,  1  might  have  found  my  way  back  to  the  Treas- 
ury and  returned  to  Venice  when  Napoleon  crushed  the  Re- 
public  

"Still,  blind  as  I  am,  let  us  go  back  to  Venice  !  I  shall  find 
the  door  of  my  prison,  I  shall  see  the  gold  through  the  prison 
walls,  I  shall  hear  it  where  it  lies  under  the  water;  for  the 
events  which  brought  about  the  fall  of  Venice  befell  in  such 
a  way  that  the  secret  of  the  hoard  must  have  perished  with 
Bianca's  brother,  Vendramin,  a  doge  to  whom  I  looked  to 
make  my  peace  with  the  Ten.  I  sent  memorials  to  the  First 
Consul;  I  proposed  an  agreement  with  the  Emperor  of  Aus- 
tria ;  every  one  sent  me  about  my  business  for  a  lunatic.  Come  ! 
we  will  go  to  Venice ;  let  us  set  out  as  beggars,  we  shall  come 
back  millionaires.  We  will  buy  back  my  estates,  and  you  shall 
be  my  heir !  You  shall  be  Prince  of  Varese  !" 

My  head  was  swimming.  For  me  his  confidences  reached 
the  proportions  of  tragedy;  at  the  sight  of  that  white  head 
of  his  and  beyond  it  the  black  water  in  the  trenches  of  the 
Bastille  lying  still  as  a  canal  in  Venice,  I  had  no  words  to 
answer  him.  Facino  Cane  thought,  no  doubt,  that  I  judged 
him,  as  the  rest  had  done,  with  a  disdainful  pity ;  his  gesture 
expressed  the  whole  philosophy  of  despair. 

Perhaps  his  story  had  taken  him  back  to  happy  days  and  to 
Venice.  He  caught  up  his  clarionet  and  made  plaintive  music, 
playing  a  Venetian  boat-song  with  something  of  his  lost 
skill,  the  skill  of  the  young  patrician  lover.  It  was  a  sort  of 
Super  flumina  Babylonis.  Tears  filled  my  eyes.  Any  belated 
persons  walking  along  the  Boulevard  Bourdon  must  have  stood 
still  to  listen  to  an  exile's  last  prayer,  a  last  cry  of  regret  for  a 
lost  name,  mingled  with  memories  of  Bianca.  But  gold  soon 
gained  the  upper  hand,  the  fatal  passion  quenched  the  light 
of  youth. 


FACING  CANE  339 

"I  see  it  always,"  he  said;  "dreaming  or  waking,  I  see  it; 
and  as  I  pace  to  and  fro,  I  pace  in  the  Treasury,  and  the  dia- 
monds sparkle.  I  am  not  as  blind  as  you  think;  gold  and 
diamonds  light  up  my  night,  the  night  of  the  last  Facino 
Cane,  for  my  title 'passes  to  the  Memmi.  My  God!  the  mur- 
derer's punishment  was  not  long  delayed!  Ave  Maria"  and 
he  repeated  several  prayers  that  I  did  not  heed. 

"We  will  go  to  Venice !"  I  said,  when  he  rose. 

"Then  I  have  found  a  man!"  he  cried,  with  his  face  on 
fire. 

I  gave  him  my  arm  and  went  home  with  him.  We  reached 
the  gates  of  the  Blind  Asylum  just  as  some  of  the  wedding 
guests  were  returning  along  the  street,  shouting  at  the  top 
of  their  voices.  He  squeezed  my  hand. 

"Shall  we  start  to-morrow?"  he  asked. 

"As  soon  as  we  can  get  some  money." 

"But  we  can  go  on  foot.  I  will  beg.  I  am  strong,  and  you 
feel  young  when  you  see  gold  before  you." 

Facino  Cane  died  before  the  winter  was  out  after  a  two 
months'  illness.  The  poor  man  had  taken  a  chill. 

PAKI3,  March  1886. 


Z.  MARCAS 

To  His  Highness  Count  William  of  Wurtemberg,  as  a  token 
of  the  Author's  respectful  gratitude. 

De  Balzac. 

I  NEVER  saw  anybody,  not  even  among  the  most  remarkable 
men  of  the  day,  whose  appearance  was  so  striking  as  this 
man's;  the  study  of  his  countenance  at  first  gave  me  a  feel- 
ing of  great  melancholy,  and  at  last  produced  an  almost  pain- 
ful impression. 

There  was  a  certain  harmony  between  the  man  and  his 
name.  The  Z.  preceding  Marcas,  which  was  seen  on  the  ad- 
dresses of  his  letters,  and  which  he  never  omitted  from  his 
signature,  as  the  last  letter  of  the  alphabet,  suggested  some 
mysterious  fatality. 

MARCAS  !  say  this  two-syllabled  name  again  and  again ;  do 
you  not  feel  as  if  it  had  some  sinister  meaning?  Does  it  not 
seem  to  you  that  its  owner  must  be  doomed  to  martyrdom? 
Though  foreign,  savage,  the  name  has  a  right  to  be  handed 
down  to  posterity;  it  is  well  constructed,  easily  pronounced, 
and  has  the  brevity  that  beseems  a  famous  name.  Is  it  not 
pleasant  as  well  as  odd?  But  does  it  not  sound  unfinished? 

I  will  not  take  it  upon  myself  to  assert  that  names  have 
no  influence  on  the  destiny  of  men.  There  is  a  certain  secret 
and  inexplicable  concord  or  a  visible  discord  between  the 
events  of  a  man's  life  and  his  name  which  is  truly  surprising; 
often  some  remote  but  very  real  correlation  is  revealed.  Our 
globe  is  round ;  everything  is  linked  to  everything  else.  Some 
day  perhaps  we  shall  revert  to  the  occult  sciences. 

Do  you  not  discern  in  that  letter  Z  an  adverse  influence? 
Does  it  not  prefigure  the  wayward  and  fantastic  progress  of  a 

(341) 


342  Z.  MARCAS 

storm-tossed  life?  What  wind  blew  on  that  letter,  which, 
whatever  language  we  find  it  in,  begins  scarcely  fifty  words? 
Marcas'  name  was  Zephirin;  Saint  Zephirin  is  highly 
venerated  in  Brittany,  and  Marcas  was  a  Breton. 

Study  the  name  once  more :  Z.  Marcas !  The  man's  whole 
life  lies  in  this  fantastic  juxtaposition  of  seven  letters;  seven! 
the  most  significant  of  all  the  cabalistic  numbers.  And  he 
died  at  five-and-thirty,  so  his  life  extended  over  seven  lustres. 

Marcas !  Does  it  not  hint  of  some  precious  object  that  is 
broken  with  a  fall,  with  or  without  a  crash  ? 

I  had  finished  studying  the  law  in  Paris  in  1836.  I  lived 
at  that  time  in  the  Eue  Corneille  in  a  house  where  none  but 
students  came  to  lodge,  one  of  those  large  houses  where  there 
is  a  winding  staircase  quite  at  the  back,  lighted  below  from 
the  street,  higher  up  by  borrowed  lights,  and  at  the  top  by  a 
skylight.  There  were  forty  furnished  rooms — furnished  as 
students'  rooms  are !  What  does  youth  demand  more  than  was 
here  supplied?  A  bed,  a  few  chairs,  a  chest  of  drawers,  a 
looking-glass,  and  a  table.  As  soon  as  the  sky  is  blue  the  stu- 
dent opens  his  window. 

But  in  this  street  there  are  no  fair  neighbors  to  flirt  with. 
In  front  is  the  Odeon,  long  since  closed,  presenting  a  wall 
that  is  beginning  to  go  black,  its  tiny  gallery  windows  and  its 
vast  expanse  of  slate  roof.  I  was  not  rich  enough  to  have  a 
good  room ;  I  was  not  even  rich  enough  to  have  a  room  to  my- 
self. Juste  and  I  shared  a  double-bedded  room  on  the  fifth 
floor. 

On  our  side  of  the  landing  there  were  but  two  rooms — 
ours  and  a  smaller  one,  occupied  by  Z.  Marcas,  our  neighbor. 
For  six  months  Juste  and  I  remained  in  perfect  ignorance 
of  the  fact.  The  old  woman  who  managed  the  house  had 
indeed  told  us  that  the  room  was  inhabited,  but  she  had  added 
that  we  should  not  be  disturbed,  that  the  occupant  was  ex- 
ceedingly quiet.  In  fact,  for  those  six  months,  we  never 
met  our  fellow-lodger,  and  we  never  heard  a  sound  in  bis  room, 
in  spite  of  the  thinness  of  the  partition  that  divided  us — one 


Z.  MARCAS  343 

of  those  walls  of  lath  and  plaster  which  are  common  in  Paris 
houses. 

Our  room,  a  little  over  seven  feet  high,  was  hung  with  a 
vile  cheap  paper  sprigged  with  blue.  The  floor  was  painted, 
and  knew  nothing  of  the  polish  given  by  the  frotteur's  brush. 
By  our  beds  there  was  only  a  scrap  of  thin  carpet.  The  chim- 
ney opened  immediately  to  the  roof,  and  smoked  so  abomi- 
nably that  we  were  obliged  to  provide  a  stove  at  our  own  ex- 
pense. Our  beds  were  mere  painted  wooden  cribs  like  those 
in  schools;  on  the  chimney  shelf  there  were  but  two  brass 
candlesticks,  with  or  without  tallow  candles  in  them,  and  our 
two  pipes  with  some  tobacco  in  a  pouch  or  strewn  abroad,  also 
the  little  piles  of  cigar-ash  left  there  by  our  visitors  or  our- 
selves. 

A  pair  of  calico  curtains  hung  from  the  brass  window  rods, 
and  on  each  side  of  the  window  was  a  small  bookcase  in 
cherry-wood,  such  as  every  one  knows  who  has  stared  into  the 
shop  windows  of  the  Quartier  Latin,  and  in  which  we  kept  the 
few  books  necessary  for  our  studies. 

The  ink  in  the  inkstand  was  always  in  the  state  of  lava  con- 
gealed in  the  crater  of  a  volcano.  May  not  any  inkstand  nowa- 
days become  a  Vesuvius?  The  pens,  all  twisted,  served  to 
clean  the  stems  of  our  pipes;  and,  in  opposition  to  all  the 
laws  of  credit,  paper  was  even  scarcer  than  coin. 

How  can  young  men  be  expected  to  stay  at  home  in  such 
furnished  lodgings?  The  students  studied  in  the  cafes,  the 
theatre,  the  Luxembourg  gardens,  in  grisettes'  rooms,  even  in 
the  law  schools — anywhere  rather  than  in  their  horrible  rooms 
— horrible  for  purposes  of  study,  delightful  as  soon  as  they 
are  used  for  gossiping  and  smoking  in.  Put  a  cloth  on  the 
table,  and  the  impromptu  dinner  sent  in  from  the  best 
eating-house  in  the  neighborhood — places  for  four — two  of 
them  in  petticoats — show  a  lithograph  of  this  "Interior"  to 
the  veriest  bigot,  and  she  will  be  bound  to  smile. 

We  thought  only  of  amusing  ourselves.  The  reason  for  our 
dissipation  lay  in  the  most  serious  facts  of  the  politics  of  the 
time.  Juste  and  I  could  not  see  any  room  for  us  in  the  two 


344  Z.  MARCAS 

professions  our  parents  wished  us  to  take  up.  There  are  a 
hundred  doctors,  a  hundred  lawyers,  for  one  that  is  wanted. 
The  crowd  is  choking  these  two  paths  which  are  supposed  to 
lead  to  fortune,  but  which  are  merely  two  arenas;  men  kill 
each  other  there,  fighting,  not  indeed  with  swords  or  fire- 
arms, but  with  intrigue  and  calumny,  with  tremendous  toil, 
campaigns  in  the  sphere  of  the  intellect  as  murderous  as  those 
in  Italy  were  to  the  soldiers  of  the  Republic.  In  these  days, 
when  everything  is  an  intellectual  competition,  a  man  must 
be  able  to  sit  forty-eight  hours  on  end  in  his  chair  before  a 
table,  as  a  General  could  remain  for  two  days  on  horseback 
and  in  his  saddle. 

The  throng  of  aspirants  has  necessitated  a  division  of  the 
Faculty  of  Medicine  into  categories.  There  is  the  physician 
who  writes  and  the  physician  who  practises,  the  political  physi- 
cian, and  the  physician  militant — four  different  ways  of  being 
a  physician,  four  classes  already  filled  up.  As  to  the  fifth 
class,  that  of  physicians  who  sell  remedies,  there  is  such  a 
competition  that  they  fight  each  other  with  disgusting  ad- 
vertisements on  the  walls  of  Paris. 

In  all  the  law  courts  there  are  almost  as  many  lawyers  as 
there  are  cases.  The  pleader  is  thrown  back  on  journalism, 
on  politics,  on  literature.  In  fact,  the  State,  besieged  for  the 
smallest  appointments  under  the  law,  has  ended  by  requiring 
that  the  applicants  should  have  some  little  fortune.  The  pear- 
shaped  head  of  the  grocer's  son  is  selected  in  preference  to 
the  square  skull  of  a  man  of  talent  who  has  not  a  sou.  Work 
as  he  will,  with  all  his  energy,  a  young  man,  starting  from 
zero,  may  at  the  end  of  ten  years  find  himself  below  the  point 
he  set  out  from.  In  these  days,  talent  must  have  the  good 
luck  which  secures  success  to  the  most  incapable ;  nay,  more,  if 
it  scorns  the  base  compromises  which  insure  advancement 
to  crawling  mediocrity,  it  will  never  get  on. 

If  we  thoroughly  knew  our  time,  we  also  knew  ourselves, 
and  we  preferred  the  indolence  of  dreamers  to  aimless  stir, 
easy-going  pleasure  to  the  useless  toil  which  would  have  ex- 
hausted our  courage  and  worn  out  the  edge  of  our  intelligence. 


Z.  MARCAS  345 

We  had  analyzed  social  life  while  smoking,  laughing,  and 
loafing.  But,  'though  elaborated  by  such  means  as  these,  our 
reflections  were  none  the  less  judicious  and  profound. 

While  we  were  fully  conscious  of  the  slavery  to  which  youth 
is  condemned,  we  were  amazed  at  the  brutal  indifference  of  the 
authorities  to  everything  connected  with  intellect,  thought, 
and  poetry.  How  often  have  Juste  and  I  exchanged  glances 
when  reading  the  papers  as  we  studied  political  events,  or  the 
debates  in  the  Chamber,  and  discussed  the  proceedings  of  a 
Court  whose  wilful  ignorance  could  find  no  parallel  but  in 
the  platitude  of  the  courtiers,  the  mediocrity  of  the  men 
forming  the  hedge  round  the  newly-restored  throne,  all  alike 
devoid  of  talent  or  breadth  of  view,  of  distinction  or  learning, 
of  influence  or  dignity  ! 

Could  there  be  a  higher  tribute  to  the  Court  of  Charles  X. 
than  the  present  Court,  if  Court  it  may  be  called?  What  a 
hatred  of  the  country  may  be  seen  in  the  naturalization  of 
vulgar  foreigners,  devoid  of  talent,  who  are  enthroned  in  the 
Chamber  of  Peers !  What  a  perversion  of  justice !  What  an 
insult  to  the  distinguished  youth,  the  ambitions  native  to  the 
soil  of  France !  We  looked  upon  these  things  as  upon  a  spec- 
tacle, and  groaned  over  them,  without  taking  upon  ourselves 
to  act. 

Juste,  whom  no  one  ever  sought,  and  who  never  sought  any 
one,  was,  at  five-and-twenty,  a  great  politician,  a  man  with 
a  wonderful  aptitude  for  apprehending  the  correlation  be- 
tween remote  history  and  the  facts  of  the  present  and  of  the 
future.  In  1831,  he  told  me  exactly  what  would  and  did  hap- 
pen— the  murders,  the  conspiracies,  the  ascendency  of  the 
Jews,  the  difficulty  of  doing  anything  in  France,  the  scarcity 
of  talent  in  the  higher  circles,  and  the  abundance  of  intellect 
in  the  lowest  ranks,  where  the  finest  courage  is  smothered 
under  cigar  ashes. 

What  was  to  become  of  him?  His  parents  wished  him  to 
be  a  doctor.  But  if  he  were  a  doctor,  must  he  not  wait  twenty 
years  for  a  practice?  You  know  what  he  did?  No?  Well, 
he  is  a  doctor ;  but  he  left  France,  he  is  in  Asia.  At  this  mo- 


346  Z.  MARCAS 

ment  he  is  perhaps  sinking  under  fatigue  in  a  desert,  or  dying 
of  the  lashes  of  a  barbarous  horde — or  perhaps  he  is  some  In- 
dian prince's  prime  minister. 

Action  is  my  vocation.  Leaving  a  civil  college  at  the  age 
of  twenty,  the  only  way  for  me  to  enter  the  army  was  by  en- 
listing as  a  common  soldier;  so,  weary  of  the  dismal  outlook 
that  lay  before  a  lawyer,  I  acquired  the  knowledge  needed 
for  a  sailor.  I  imitate  Juste,  and  keep  out  of  France,  where 
men  waste,  in  the  struggle  to  make  way,  the  energy  needed 
for  the  noblest  works.  Follow  my  example,  friends;  I  am 
going  where  a  man  steers  his  destiny  as  he  pleases. 

These  great  resolutions  were  formed  in  the  little  room  in 
the  lodging-house  in  the  Rue  Corneille,  in  spite  of  our  haunt- 
ing the  Bal  Musard,  flirting  with  girls  of  the  town,  and  lead- 
ing a  careless  and  apparently  reckless  life.  Our  plans  and 
arguments  long  floated  in  the  air. 

Marcas,  our  neighbor,  was  in  some  degree  the  guide  who 
led  us  to  the  margin  of  the  precipice  or  the  torrent,  who  made 
us  sound  it,  and  showed  us  beforehand  what  our  fate  would 
be  if  we  let  ourselves  fall  into  it.  It  was  he  who  put  us  on 
our  guard  against  the  time-bargains  a  man  makes  with 
poverty  under  the  sanction  of  hope,  by  accepting  precarious 
situations  whence  he  fights  the  battle,  carried  along  by  the 
devious  tide  of  Paris — that  great  harlot  who  takes  you  up  or 
leaves  you  stranded,  smiles  or  turns  her  bapk  on  you  with 
equal  readiness,  wears  out  the  strongest  will  in  vexatious  wait- 
ing, and  makes  misfortune  wait  on  chance. 

At  our  first  meeting,  Marcas,  as  it  were,  dazzled  us.  On  our 
return  from  the  schools,  a  little  before  the  dinner-hour,  we 
were  accustomed  to  go  up  to  our  room  and  remain  there  a 
while,  either  waiting  for  the  other,  to  learn  whether  there  were 
any  change  in  our  plans  for  the  evening.  One  day,  at  four 
o'clock,  Juste  met  Marcas  on  the  stairs,  and  I  saw  him  in  the 
street.  It  was  in  the  month  of  November,  and  Marcas  had  no 
cloak ;  he  wore  shoes  with  heavy  soles,  corduroy  trousers,  and 
a  blue  double-breasted  coat  buttoned  to  the  throat,  which  gave 


2.  MARCAS  347 

a  military  air  to  his  broad  chest,  all  the  more  so  because  he 
wore  a  black  stock.  The  costume  was  not  in  itself  extraor- 
dinary, but  it  agreed  well  with  the  man's  mien  and  counte- 
nance. 

My  first  impression  on  seeing  him  was  neither  surprise, 
nor  distress,  nor  interest,  nor  pity,  but  curiosity  mingled  with 
all  these  feelings.  He  walked  slowly,  with  a  step  that  be- 
trayed deep  melancholy,  his  head  forward  with  a  stoop,  but 
not  bent  like  that  of  a  conscience-stricken  man.  That  head, 
large  and  powerful,  which  might  contain  the  treasures  neces- 
sary for  a  man  of  the  highest  ambition,  looked  as  if  it  were 
loaded  with  thought;  it  was  weighted  with  grief  of  mind, 
but  there  was  no  touch  of  remorse  in  his  expression.  As  to 
his  face,  it  may  be  summed  up  in  a  word.  A  common  super- 
stition has  it  that  every  human  countenance  resembles  some 
animal.  The  animal  for  Marcas  was  the  lion.  His  hair  was 
like  a  mane,  his  nose  was  short  and  flat;  broad  and  dented 
at  the  tip  like  a  lion's;  his  brow,  like  a  lion's,  was  strongly 
marked  with  a  deep  median  furrow,  dividing  two  powerful 
bosses.  His  high,  hairy  cheek-bones,  all  the  more  prominent 
because  his  cheeks  were  so  thin,  his  enormous  mouth  and 
hollow  jaws,  were  accentuated  by  lines  of  haughty  signifi- 
cance, and  marked  by  a  complexion  full  of  tawny  shadows. 
This  almost  terrible  countenance  seemed  illuminated  by  two 
lamps — two  eyes,  black  indeed,  but  infinitely  sweet,  calm  and 
deep,  full  of  thought.  If  I  may  say  so,  those  eyes  had  a 
humiliated  expression. 

Marcas  was  afraid  of  looking  directly  at  others,  not  for 
himself,  but  for  those  on  whom  his  fascinating  gaze  might 
rest ;  he  had  a  power,  and  he  shunned  using  it ;  he  would  spare 
those  he  met,  and  he  feared  notice.  This  was  not  from  mod- 
esty, but  from  resignation — not  Christian  resignation,  which 
implies  charity,  but  resignation  founded  on  reason,  which  had 
demonstrated  the  immediate  inutility  of  his  gifts,  the  impos- 
sibility of  entering  and  living  in  the  sphere  for  which  he  was 
fitted.  Those  eyes  could  at  times  flash  lightnings.  From 
those  lips  a  voice  of  thunder  must  surely  proceed;  it  was  a 
mouth  like  Mirabeau's. 


348  Z.  MARCAS 

"I  have  seen  such  a  grand  fellow  in  the  street,"  said  I  to 
Juste  on  coming  in. 

"It  must  be  our  neighbor,"  replied  Juste,  who  described, 
in  fact,  the  man  I  had  just  met.  "A  man  who  lives  like  a 
wood-louse  would  be  sure  to  look  like  that,"  he  added. 

"What  dejection  and  what  dignity!" 

"One  is  the  consequence  of  the  other." 

"What  ruined  hopes !    What  schemes  and  failures !" 

"Seven  leagues  of  ruins  !  Obelisks — palaces — towers ! — 
The  ruins  of  Palmyra  in  the  desert !"  said  Juste,  laughing. 

So  we  called  him  the  Ruins  of  Palmyra. 

As  we  went  out  to  dine  at  the  wretched  eating-house  in  the 
Rue  de  la  Harpe  to  which  we  subscribed,  we  asked  the  name 
of  Number  37,  and  then  heard  the  weird  name  Z.  Marcas. 
Like  boys,  as  we  were,  we  repeated  it  more  than  a  hundred 
times  with  all  sorts  of  comments,  absurd  or  melancholy,  and 
the  name  lent  itself  to  the  jest.  Juste  would  fire  off  the  Z 
like  a  rocket  rising,  z-z-z-z-zed;  and  after  pronouncing  the 
first  syllable  of  the  name  with  great  importance,  depicted  a 
fall  by  the  dull  brevity  of  the  second. 

"Now,  how  and  where  does  the  man  live?" 

From  this  query,  to  the  innocent  espionage  of  curiosity 
there  was  no  pause  but  that  required  for  carrying  out  our 
plan.  Instead  of  loitering  about  the  streets,  we  both  came 
in,  each  armed  with  a  novel.  We  read  with  our  ears  open. 
And  in  the  perfect  silence  of  our  attic  rooms,  we  heard  the 
even,  dull  sound  of  a  sleeping  man  breathing. 

"He  is  asleep,"  said  I  to  Juste,  noticing  this  fact. 

"At  seven  o'clock !"  replied  the  Doctor. 

This  was  the  name  by  which  I  called  Juste,  and  he  called 
me  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals. 

"A  man  must  be  wretched  indeed  to  sleep  as  much  as  our 
neighbor !"  cried  I,  jumping  on  to  the  chest  of  drawers  with 
a  knife  in  my  hand,  to  which  a  corkscrew  was  attached. 

I  made  a  round  hole  at  the  top  of  the  partition,  about  as 
big  as  a  five-sou  piece.  I  had  forgotten  that  there  would  be 
DO  light  in  the  room,  and  on  putting  my  eye  to  the  hole,  I 


Z.  MARCAS  349 

saw  only  darkness.  At  about  one  in  the  morning,  when  we 
had  finished  our  books  and  were  about  to  undress,  we  heard 
a,  noise  in  our  neighbor's  room.  He  got  up,  struck  a  match, 
and  lighted  his  dip.  I  got  on  to  the  drawers  again,  and  I 
then  saw  Marcas  seated  at  his  table  and  copying  law-papers. 

His  room  was  about  half  the  size  of  ours ;  the  bed  stood  in 
a  recess  by  the  door,  for  the  passage  ended  there,  and  its 
breadth  was  added  to  his  garret;  but  the  ground  on  which 
the  house  was  built  was  evidently  irregular,  for  the  party-wall 
formed  an  obtuse  angle,  and  the  room  was  not  square.  There 
was  no  fireplace,  only  a  small  earthenware  stove,  white 
blotched  with  green,  of  which  the  pipe  went  up  through  the 
roof.  The  window,  in  the  skew  side  of  the  room,  had  shabby 
red  curtains.  The  furniture  consisted  of  an  armchair,  a  table, 
a  chair,  and  a  wretched  bed-table.  A  cupboard  in  the  wall 
held  his  clothes.  The  wall-paper  was  horrible;  evidently 
only  a  servant  had  ever  lodged  there  before  Marcas. 

"What  is  to  be  seen  ?"  asked  the  Doctor  as  I  got  down. 

"Look  for  yourself,"  said  I. 

At  nine  next  morning,  Marcas  was  in  bed.  He  had  break- 
fasted off  a  saveloy;  we  saw  on  a  plate,  with  some  crumbs 
of  bread,  the  remains  of  that  too  familiar  delicacy.  He  was 
asleep ;  he  did  not  wake  till  eleven.  He  then  set  to  work  again 
on  the  copy  he  had  begun  the  night  before,  which  was  lying 
on  the  table. 

On  going  downstairs  we  asked  the  price  of  that  room,  and 
were  told  fifteen  francs  a  month. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  we  were  fully  informed  as  to 
the  mode  of  life  of  Z.  Marcas.  He  did  copying,  at  so  much  a 
sheet  no  doubt,  for  a  law-writer  who  lived  in  the  courtyard  of 
the  Sainte-Chapelle.  He  worked  half  the  night;  after  sleep- 
ing from  six  till  ten,  he  began  again  and  wrote  till  three. 
Then  he  Avent  out  to  take  the  copy  home  before  dinner,  which 
he  ate  at  Mizerai's  in  the  Eue  Michel-le-Comte,  at  a  cost  of 
nine  sous,  and  came  in  to  bed  at  six  o'clock.  It  became  known 
to  us  that  Marcas  did  not  utter  fifteen  sentences  in  a  month ; 
he  never  talked  to  anybody,  nor  said  a  word  to  himself  in  hia 
dreadful  garret. 


350  Z.  MARCAS 

"The  Euins  of  Palmyra  are  terribly  silent !"  said  Juste. 

This  taciturnity  in  a  man  whose  appearance  was  so  im- 
posing was  strangely  significant.  Sometimes  when  we  met 
him,  we  exchanged  glances  full  of  meaning  on  both  sides, 
hut  they  never  led  to  any  advances.  Insensibly  this  man  be- 
came the  object  of  our  secret  admiration,  though  we  knew  no 
reason  for  it.  Did  it  lie  in  his  secretly  simple  habits,  his 
monastic  regularity,  his  hermit-like  frugality,  his  idiotically 
mechanical  labor,  allowing  his  mind  to  remain  neuter  or  to 
work  on  its  own  lines,  seeming  to  us  to  hint  at  an  expectation 
of  some  stroke  of  good  luck,  or  at  some  foregone  conclusion 
as  to  his  life? 

After  wandering  for  a  long  time  among  the  Euins  of  Pal- 
myra, we  forget  them — we  were  young !  Then  came  the 
Carnival,  the  Paris  Carnival,  which,  henceforth,  will  eclipse 
the  old  Carnival  of  Venice,  unless  some  ill-advised  Prefect  of 
Police  is  antagonistic. 

Gambling  ought  to  be  allowed  during  the  Carnival;  but 
the  stupid  moralists  who  have  had  gambling  suppressed  are 
inert  financiers,  and  this  indispensable  evil  will  be  re-estab- 
lished among  us  when  it  is  proved  that  France  leaves  millions 
at  the  German  tables. 

This  splendid  Carnival  brought  us  to  utter  penury,  as  it 
does  every  student.  We  got  rid  of  every  object  of  luxury ;  \ve 
sold  our  second  coats,  our  second  boots,  our  second  waistcoats — 
everything  of  which  we  had  a  duplicate,,  except  our  friend. 
We  ate  bread  and  cold  sausages ;  we  looked  where  we  walked ; 
we  had  set  to  work  in  earnest.  We  owed  two  months'  rent, 
and  were  sure  of  having  a  bill  from  the  porter  for  sixty  or 
eighty  items  each,  and  amounting  to  forty  or  fifty  francs. 
We  made  no  noise,  and  did  not  laugh  as  we  crossed  the  little 
hall  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs;  we  commonly  took  it  at 
a  flying  leap  from  the  lowest  step  into  the  street.  On  the 
day  when  we  first  found  ourselves  bereft  of  tobacco  for  our 
pipes,  it  struck  us  that  for  some  days  we  had  been  eating 
bread  without  any  kind  of  butter. 

Great  was  our  distress. 


Z.  MARCAS  351 

"No  tobacco !"  said  the  Doctor. 

"No  cloak !"  said  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals. 

"Ah,  you  rascals,  you  would  dress  as  the  postilion  de 
Longjumeau,  you  would  appear  as  Debardeurs,  sup  in  the 
morning,  and  breakfast  at  night  at  Very's — sometimes  even 
at  the  Roclier  de  Cancale. — Dry  bread  for  you,  my  boys! 
Why,"  said  I,  in  a  big  bass  voice,  "you  deserve  to  sleep  under 
the  bed,  you  are  not  worthy  to  lie  in  it " 

"Yes,  yes ;  but,  Keeper  of  Seals,  there  is  no  more  tobacco !" 
said  Juste. 

"It  is  high  time  to  write  home,  to  our  aunts,  our  mothers, 
and  our  sisters,  to  tell  them  we  have  no  underlinen  left,  that 
the  wear  and  tear  of  Paris  would  ruin  garments  of  wire.  Then 
we  will  solve  an  elegant  chemical  problem  by  transmuting 
linen  into  silver/' 

"But  we  must  live  till  we  get  the  answer." 

"Well,  I  will  go  and  bring  out  a  loan  among  such  of  our 
friends  as  may  still  have  some  capital  to  invest." 

"And  how  much  will  you  find?" 

"Say  ten  francs !"  replied  I  with  pride. 

It  was  midnight.  Marcas  had  heard  everything.  He 
knocked  at  our  door. 

"Messieurs,"  said  he,  "here  is  some  tobacco;  you  can  repay 
me  on  the  first  opportunity." 

We  were  struck,  not  "by  the  offer,  which  we  accepted,  but 
by  the  rich,  deep,  full  voice  in  which  it  was  made ;  a  tone  only 
comparable  to  the  lowest  string  of  Paganini's  violin.  Marcas 
vanished  without  waiting  for  our  thanks. 

Juste  and  I  looked  at  each  other  without  a  word.  To  be 
rescued  by  a  man  evidently  poorer  than  ourselves!  Juste 
sat  down  to  write  to  every  member  of  his  family,  and  I  went 
off  to  effect  a  loan.  I  brought  in  twenty  francs  lent  me  by  a 
fellow-provincial.  In  that  evil'  but  happy  day  gambling  was 
still  tolerated,  and  in  its  lodes,  as  hard  as  the  rocky  ore  of 
Brazil,  young  men,  by  risking  a  small  sum,  had  a  chance  of 
winning  a  few  gold  pieces.  My  friend,  too,  had  some  Turkish 
tobacco  brought  home  from  Constantinople  by  a  sailor,  and 


352  Z.  MARCAS 

he  gave  me  quite  as  much  as  we  had  taken  from  Z.  Marcas. 
I  conveyed  the  splendid  cargo  into  port,  and  we  went  in  tri- 
umph to  repay  our  neighbor  with  a  tawny  wig  of  Turkish 
tobacco  for  his  dark  Caporal. 

"You  are  determined  not  to  be  my  debtors/'  said  he. 
"You  are  giving  me  gold  for  copper. — You  are  boys — good 
boys " 

The  sentences,  spoken  in  varying  tones,  were  variously  em- 
phasized. The  words  were  nothing,  but  the  expression ! — 
That  made  us  friends  of  ten  years'  standing  at  once. 

Marcas,  on  hearing  us  coming,  had  covered  up  his  papers ; 
we  understood  that  it  would  be  taking  a  liberty  to  allude  to  his 
means  of  subsistence,  and  felt  ashamed  of  having  watched 
him.  His  cupboard  stood  open;  in  it  there  were  two  shirts, 
a  white  necktie,  and  a  razor.  The  razor  made  me  shudder. 
A  looking-glass,  worth  five  francs  perhaps,  hung  near  the 
window. 

The  man's  few  and  simple  movements  had  a  sort  of  savage 
grandeur.  The  Doctor  and  I  looked  at  each  other,  wonder- 
ing what  we  could  say  in  reply.  Juste,  seeing  that  I  was 
speechless,  asked  Marcas  jestingly : 

"You  cultivate  literature,  monsieur?" 

"Far  from  it !"  replied  Marcas.  "I  should  not  be  so 
wealthy." 

"I  fancied,"  said  I,  "that  poetry  alone,  in  these  days,  was 
amply .  sufficient  to  provide  a  man  with  lodgings  as  bad  as 
ours." 

My  remark  made  Marcas  smile,  and  the  smile  gave  a  charm 
to  his  yellow  face. 

"Ambition  is  not  a  less  severe  taskmaster  to  those  who  fail," 
said  he.  "You,  who  are  beginning  life,  walk  in  the  beaten 
paths.  Never  dream  of  rising  superior,  you  will  be  ruined !" 

"You  advise  us  to  stay  just  as  we  are?"  said  the  Doctor, 
smiling. 

There  is  something  so  infectious  and  childlike  in  the  pleas- 
antries of  youth,  that  Marcas  smiled  again  in  reply. 

"What  incidents  can  have  given  you  this  detestable  philos- 
ophy ?"  asked  I. 


Z.  MARCAS  353 

"I  forgot  once  more  that  chance  is  the  result  of  an  immense 
equation  of  which  we  know  not  all  the  factors.  When  we  start 
from  zero  to  work  up  to  the  unit,  the  chances  are  incalculable. 
To  ambitious  men  Paris  is  an  immense  roulette  table,  and 
every  young  man  fancies  he  can  hit  on  a  successful  progres- 
sion of  numbers." 

He  offered  us  the  tobacco  I  had  brought  that  we  might 
smoke  with  him ;  the  Doctor  went  to  fetch  our  pipes ;  Marcas 
filled  his,  and  then  he  came  to  sit- in  our  room,  bringing  the 
tobacco  with  him,  since  there  were  but  two  chairs  in  his.  Juste, 
as  brisk  as  a  squirrel,  ran  out,  and  returned  with  a  boy  carry- 
ing three  bottles  of  Bordeaux,  some  Brie  cheese,  and  a  loaf. 

"Hah !"  said  I  to  myself,  "fifteen  francs,"  and  I  was  right 
to  a  sou. 

Juste  gravely  laid  five  francs  on  the  chimney-shelf. 

There  are  immeasurable  differences  between  the  gregarious 
man  and  the  man  who  lives  closest  to  nature.  Toussaint 
Louverture,  after  he  was  caught,  died  without  speaking  a 
word.  Napoleon,  transplanted  to  a  rock,  talked  like  a  magpie 
— he  wanted  to  account  for  himself.  Z.  Marcas  erred  in  the 
same  way,  but  for  our  benefit  only.  Silence  in  all  its  majesty 
is  to  be  found  only  in  the  savage.  There  never  is  a  criminal 
who,  though  he  might  let  his  secrets  fall  with  his  head  into 
the  basket  of  sawdust,  does  not  feel  the  purely  social  impulse 
to  tell  them  to  somebody. 

Nay,  I  am  wrong.  We  have  seen  one  Iroquois  of  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint-Marceau  who  raised  the  Parisian  to  the  level  of 
the  natural  savage — a  republican,  a  conspirator,  a  French- 
man, an  old  man,  who  outdid  all  we  have  heard  of  Negro  de- 
termination, and  all  that  Cooper  tells  us  of  the  tenacity  and 
coolness  of  the  Eedskins  under  defeat.  Morey,  the  Guati- 
mozin  of  the  "Mountain,"  preserved  an  attitude  unparalleled 
in  the  annals  of  European  justice. 

This  is  what  Marcas  told  us  during  the  small  hours,  sand- 
wiching his  discourse  with  slices  of  bread  spread  with  cheese 
and  washed  down  with  wine.  All  the  tobacco  was  burned  out. 


354  Z.  MARCAS 

Now  and  then  the  hackney  coaches  clattering  across  the  Place 
de  FOdeon,  or  the  omnibuses  toiling  past,  sent  up  their  dull 
rumbling,  as  if  to  remind  us  that  Paris  was  still  close  to  us. 

His  family  lived  at  Vitre;  his  father  and  mother  had 
fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year  in  the  funds.  He  had  received 
an  education  gratis  in  a  Seminary,  but  had  refused  to  enter 
the  priesthood.  He  felt  in  himself  the  fires  of  immense 
ambition,  and  had  come  to  Paris  on  foot  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
the  possessor  of  two  hundred  francs.  He  had  studied  the 
law,  working  in  an  attorney's  office,  where  he  had  risen  to 
be  superior  clerk.  He  had  taken  his  doctor's  degree  in  law, 
had  mastered  the  old  and  modern  codes,  and  could  hold  his 
own  with  the  most  famous  pleaders.  He  had  studied  the  law 
of  nations,  and  was  familiar  with  European  treaties  and  in- 
ternational practice.  He  had  studied  men  and  things  in  five 
capitals — London,  Berlin,  Vienna,  Petersburg,  and  Con- 
stantinople. 

No  man  was  better  informed  than  he  as  to  the  rules  of  the 
Chamber.  For  five  years  he  had  been  reporter  of  the  debates 
for  a  daily  paper.  He  spoke  extempore  and  admirably,  and 
could  go  on  for  a  long  time  in  that  deep,  appealing  voice 
which  had  struck  us  to  the  soul.  Indeed,  he  proved  by  the 
narrative  of  his  life  that  he  was  a  great  orator,  a  concise 
orator,  serious  and  yet  full  of  piercing  eloquence;  he  re- 
sembled Berryer  in  his  fervor  and  in  the  impetus  which  com- 
mands the  sympathy  of  the  masses,  and  was  like  Thiers 
in  refinement  and  skill;  but  he  would  have  been  less  diffuse, 
less  in  difficulties  for  a  conclusion.  He  had  intended  to  rise 
rapidly  to  power  without  burdening  himself  first  with  the 
doctrines  necessary  to  begin  with,  for  a  man  in  opposition, 
but  an  incubus  later  to  the  statesman. 

Marcas  had  learned  everything  that  a  real  statesman  should 
know;  indeed,  his  amazement  was  considerable  when  he  had 
occasion  to  discern  the  utter  ignorance  of  men  who  have  risen 
to  the  administration  of  public  affairs  in  France.  Though 
in  him  it  was  vocation  that  had  led  to  study,  nature  had  been 
generous  and  bestowed  all  that  cannot  be  acquired — keen  per- 


Z.  MARCAS  353 

ceptions,  self-command,  a  nimble  wit,  rapid  judgment,  de- 
cisiveness, and,  what  is  the  genius  of  these  men,  fertility  in 
resource. 

By  the  time  when  Marcas  thought  himself  duly  equipped, 
France  was  torn  by  intestine  divisions  arising  from  the  tri- 
umph of  the  House  of  Orleans  over  the  elder  branch  of  the 
Bourbons. 

The  field  of  political  warfare  is  evidently  changed.  Civil 
war  henceforth  cannot  last  for  long,  and  will  not  be  fought 
out  in  the  provinces.  In  France  such  struggles  will  be  of 
brief  duration  and  at  the  seat  of  government ;  and  the  battle 
will  be  the  close  of  the  moral  contest  which  will  have  been 
brought  to  an  issue  by  superior  minds.  This  state  of  things 
will  continue  so  long  as  France  has  her  present  singular  form 
of  government,  which  has  no  analogy  with  that  of  any  other 
country ;  for  there  is  no  more  resemblance  between  the  Eng- 
lish and  the  French  constitutions  than  between  the  two  lands. 

Thus  Marcas'  place  was  in  the  political  press.  Being  poor 
and  unable  to  secure  his  election,  he  hoped  to  make  a  sudden 
appearance.  He  resolved  on  making  the  greatest  possible  sacri- 
fice for  a  man  of  superior  inte^ect,  to  work  as  subordinate 
to  some  rich  and  ambitious  deputy.  Like  a  second  Bonaparte, 
he  sought  his  Barras;  the  new  Colbert  hoped  to  find  a  Ma- 
zarin.  He  did  immense  services,  and  he  did  them  then  and 
there;  he  assumed  no  importance,  he  made  no  boast,  he  did 
not  complain  of  ingratitude.  He  did  them  in  the  hope  that 
his  patron  would  put  him  in  a  position  to  be  elected  deputy ; 
Marcas  wished  for  nothing  but  a  loan  that  might  enable  him 
to  purchase  a  house  in  Paris,  the  qualification  required  by 
law.  Richard  III.  asked  for  nothing  but  his  horse. 

In  three  years  Marcas  had  made  his  man — one  of  the  fifty 
supposed  great  statesmen  who  are  the  battledores  with  which 
two  cunning  players  toss  the  ministerial  portfolios  exactly 
as  the  man  behind  the  puppet-show  hits  Punch  against  the 
constable  in  his  street  theatre,  and  counts  on  always  getting 
paid.  This  man  existed  only  by  Marcas,  but  he  had  just 

brains  enough  to  appreciate  the  value  of  his  "ghost"  and  to 
VOL.  16 — 54 


356  2.  MARCAS 

know  that  Marcas,  if  he  ever  came  to  the  front,  would  remain 
there,  would  be  indispensable,  while  he  himself  would  be 
translated  to  the  polar  zone  of  the  Luxembourg.  So  he  deter- 
mined to  put  insurmountable  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his 
Mentor's  advancement,  and  hid  his  purpose  under  the  sem- 
blance of  the  utmost  sincerity.  Like  all  mean  men,  he  could 
dissimulate  to  perfection,  and  he  soon  made  progress  in  the 
ways  of  ingratitude,  for  he  felt  that  he  must  kill  Marcas,  not 
to  be  killed  by  him.  These  two  men,  apparently  so  united, 
hated  each  other  as  soon  as  one  had  once  deceived  the  other. 

The  politician  was  made  one  of  a  ministry;  Marcas  re- 
mained in  the  opposition  to  hinder  his  man  from  being  at- 
tacked ;  nay,  by  skilful  tactics  he  won  him  the  applause  of  the 
opposition.  To  excuse  himself  for  not  rewarding  his  subal- 
tern, the  chief  pointed  out  the  impossibility  of  finding  a  place 
suddenly  for  a  man  on  the  other  side,  without  a  great  deal  of 
manoeuvring.  Marcas  had  hoped  confidently  for  a  place  to 
enable  him  to  marry,  and  thus  acquire  the  qualification  he  so 
ardently  desired.  He  was  two-and-thirty,  and  the  Chamber 
ere  long  must  be  dissolved.  Having  detected  his  man  in  this 
flagrant  act  of  bad  faith,  he  overthrew  him,  or  at  any  rate  con- 
tributed largely  to  his  overthrow,  and  covered  him  with  mud. 

A  fallen  minister,  if  he  is  to  rise  again  to  power,  must  show 
that  he  is  to  be  feared;  this  man,  intoxicated  by  Royal  glib- 
ness,  had  fancied  that  his  position  would  be  permanent;  he 
acknowledged  his  delinquencies;  besides  confessing  them, 
he  did  Marcas  a  small  money  service,  for  Marcas  had  got  into 
debt.  He  subsidized  the  newspaper  on  which  Marcas  worked, 
and  made  him  the  manager  of  it. 

Though  he  despised  the  man,  Marcas,  who,  practically,  was 
being  subsidized  too,  consented  to  take  the  part  of  the  fallen 
minister.  Without  unmasking  at  once  all  the  batteries  of  his 
superior  intellect,  Marcas  came  a  little  further  than  before; 
he  showed  half  his  shrewdness.  The  Ministry  lasted  only  a 
hundred  and  eighty  days;  it  was  swallowed  up.  Marcas  had 
put  himself  into  communication  with  certain  deputies,  had 
moulded  them  like  dough,  leaving  each  impressed  with  a  high 


Z.  MARCAS  357 

opinion  of  his  talent;  his  puppet  again  became  a  member  of 
the  Ministry,  and  then  the  paper  was  ministerial.  The  Min- 
istry united  the  paper  with  another,  solely  to  squeeze  out 
Marcas,  who  in  this  fusion  had  to  make  way  for  a  rich  and 
insolent  rival,  whose  name  was  well  known,  and  who  already 
had  his  foot  in  the  stirrup. 

Marcas  relapsed  into  utter  destitution ;  his  haughty  patron 
well  knew  the  depths  into  which  he  had  cast  him. 

Where  was  he  to  go?  The  ministerial  papers,  privily 
warned,  would  have  nothing  to  say  to  him.  The  opposition 
papers  did  not  care  to  admit  him  to  their  offices.  Marcas 
could  side  neither  with  the  Eepublicans  nor  with  the  Le- 
gitimists, two  parties  whose  triumph  would  mean  the  over- 
throw of  everything  that  now  is. 

"Ambitious  men  like  a  fast  hold  on  things,"  said  he  with  a 
smile. 

He  lived  by  writing  a  few  articles  on  commercial  affairs, 
and  contributed  to  one  of  those  encyclopedias  brought  out  by 
speculation  and  not  by  learning.  Finally  a  paper  was 
founded,  which  was  destined  to  live  but  two  years,  but  which 
secured  his  services.  From  that  moment  he  renewed  his  con- 
nection with  the  minister's  enemies ;  he  joined  the  party  who 
were  working  for  the  fall  of  the  Government ;  and  as  soon  as 
his  pickaxe  had  free  play,  it  fell. 

This  paper  had  now  for  six  months  ceased  to  exist ;  he  had 
failed  to  find  employment  of  any  kind ;  he  was  spoken  of  as  a 
dangerous  man,  calumny  attacked  him;  he  had  unmasked  a 
huge  financial  and  mercantile  job  by  a  few  articles  and  a  pam- 
phlet. He  was  known  to  be  the  mouthpiece  of  a  banker  who 
was  said  to  have  paid  him  largely,  and  from  whom  he  was  sup- 
posed to  expect  some  patronage  in  return  for  his  champion- 
ship. Marcas,  disgusted  by  men  and  things,  worn  out  by  five 
years  of  fighting,  regarded  as  a  free  lance  rather  than  as  a 
great  leader,  crushed  by  the  necessity  for  earning  his  daily 
bread,  which  hindered  him  from  gaining  ground,  in  despair 
at  the  influence  exerted  by  money  over  mind,  and  given  over 
to  dire  poverty,  buried  himself  in  a  garret,  to  make  thirty 


358  Z.  MARCAS 

sous  a  day,  the  sum  strictly  answering  to  his  needs.  Medi- 
tation had  leveled  a  desert  all  round  him.  He  read  the  pa- 
pers to  be  informed  of  what  was  going  on.  Pozzo  di  Borgo 
had  once  lived  like  this  for  some  time. 

Marcas,  no  doubt,  was  planning  a  serious  attack,  accustom- 
ing himself  to  dissimulation,  and  punishing  himself  for  his 
blunders  by  Pythagorean  muteness.  But  he  did  not  tell  us 
the  reasons  for  his  conduct. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  scenes  of  the 
highest  comedy  that  lay  behind  this  algebraic  statement  of 
his  career;  his  useless  patience  dogging  the  footsteps  of  for- 
tune, which  presently  took  wings,  his  long  tramps  over  the 
thorny  brakes  of  Paris,  his  breathless  chases  as  a  petitioner, 
his  attempts  to  win  over  fools;  the  schemes  laid  only  to  fail 
through  the  influence  of  some  frivolous  woman ;  the  meetings 
with  men  of  business  who  expected  their  capital  to  bring 
them  places  and  a  peerage,  as  well  as  large  interest.  Then  the 
hopes  rising  in  a  towering  wave  only  to  break  in  foam  on  the 
shoal;  the  wonders  wrought  in  reconciling  adverse  interests 
which,  after  working  together  for  a  week,  fell  asunder;  the 
annoyance,  a  thousand  times  repeated,  of  seeing  a  dunce  deco- 
rated with  the  Legion  of  Honor,  and  preferred,  though  as 
ignorant  as  a  shop-boy,  to  a  man  of  talent.  Then,  what  Mar- 
cas called  the  stratagems  of  stupidity — you  strike  a  man,  and 
he  seems  convinced,  he  nods  his  head — everything  is  settled; 
next  day,  this  india-rubber  ball,  flattened  for  a  moment,  has 
recovered  itself  in  the  course  of  the  night ;  it  is  as  full  of  wind 
as  ever ;  you  must  begin  all  over  again ;  and  you  go  on  till  you 
understand  that  you  are  not  dealing  with  a  man,  but  with  a 
lump  of  gum  that  loses  shape  in  the  sunshine. 

These  thousand  annoyances,  this  vast  waste  of  human 
energy  on  barren  spots,  the  difficulty  of  achieving  any  good, 
the  incredible  facility  of  doing  mischief;  two  strong  games 
played  out,  twice  won,  and  then  twice  lost;  the  hatred  of  a 
statesman — a  blockhead  with  a  painted  face  and  a  wig, 
but  in  whom  the  world  believed — all  these  things,  great 


Z.  MARCAS  359 

and  small,  had  not  crushed,  but  for  the  moment  had  dashed, 
Marcas.  In  the  days  when  money  had  come  into  his  hands, 
his  fingers  had  not  clutched  it;  he  had  allowed  himself  the 
exquisite  pleasure  of  sending  it  all  to  his  family — to  his  sis- 
ters, his  brothers,  his  old  father.  Like  Napoleon  in  his  fall, 
he  asked  for  no  more  than  thirty  sous  a  day,  and  any  man 
of  energy  can  earn  thirty  sous  for  a  day's  work  in  Paris. 

When  Marcas  had  finished  the  story  of  his  life,  inter- 
mingled with  reflections,  maxims,  and  observations,  revealing 
him  as  a  great  politician,  a  few  questions  and  answers  on  both 
sides  as  to  the  progress  of  affairs  in  France  and  in  Europe 
were  enough  to  prove  to  us  that  he  was  a  real  statesman ;  for 
a  man  maybe  quickly  and  easily  judged  when  he  can  be  brought 
on  to  the  ground  of  immediate  difficulties :  there  is  a  certain 
Shibboleth  for  men  of  superior  talents,  and  we  were  of  the 
tribe  of  modern  Levites  without  belonging  as  yet  to  the  Tem- 
ple. As  I  have  said,  our  frivolity  covered  certain  purposes 
which  Juste  has  carried  out,  and  which  I  am  about  to  execute. 

When  we  had  done  talking,  we  all  three  went  out,  cold  as 
it  was,  to  walk  in  the  Luxembourg  gardens  till  the  dinner 
hour.  In  the  course  of  that  walk  our  conversation,  grave 
throughout,  turned  on  the  painful  aspects  of  the  political 
situation.  Each  of  us  contributed  his  remarks,  his  com- 
ment, or  his  jest,  a  pleasantry  or  a  proverb.  This  was  no 
longer  exclusively  a  discussion  of  life  on  the  colossal  scale 
just  described  by  Marcas,  the  soldier  of  political  warfare. 
Nor  was  it  the  distressful  monologue  of  the  wrecked  navi- 
gator, stranded  in  a  garret  in  the  Hotel  Corneille;  it  was  a 
dialogue  in  which  two  well-informed  young  men,  having 
gauged  the  times  they  lived  in,  were  endeavoring,  under  the 
guidance  of  a  man  of  talent,  to  gain  some  light  on  their  own 
future  prospects. 

"Why,"  asked  Juste,  "did  you  not  wait  patiently  for  an 
opportunity,  and  imitate  the  only  man  who  has  been  able 
to  keep  the  lead  since  the  Eevolution  of  July  by  holding 
his  head  above  water?" 

"Have  I  not  said  that  we  never  know  where  the  roots  of 


360  Z.  MARCAS 

chance  lie?  Carrel  was  in  identically  the  same  position  as 
the  orator  you  speak  of.  That  gloomy  young  man,  of  a  bitter 
spirit,  had  a  whole  government  in  his  head;  the  man  of 
whom  you  speak  had  no  idea  beyond  mounting  on  the  crupper 
of  every  event.  Of  the  two,  Carrel  was  the  better  man. 
Well,  one  became  a  minister,  Carrel  remained  a  journalist; 
the  incomplete  but  craftier  man  is  living ;  Carrel  is  dead. 

"I  may  point  out  that  your  man  has  for  fifteen  years  been 
making  his  way,  and  is  but  making  it  still.  He  may  yet  be 
caught  and  crushed  between  two  cars  full  of  intrigues  on 
the  highroad  to  power.  He  has  no  house;  he  has  not  the 
favor  of  the  palace  like  Metternich;  nor,  like  Villele,  the 
protection  of  a  compact  majority. 

"I  do  not  believe  that  the  present  state  of  things  will  last 
ten  years  longer.  Hence,  supposing  I  should  have  such  poor 
good  luck,  I  am  already  too  late  to  avoid  being  swept  away 
by  the  commotion  I  foresee.  I  should  need  to  be  established 
in  a  superior  position." 

"What  commotion?"  asked  Juste. 

"AUGUST,  1830,"  said  Marcas  in  solemn  tones,  holding  out 
his  hand  towards  Paris;  "AUGUST,  the  offspring  of  Youth 
which  bound  the  sheaves,  and  of  Intellect  which  had  ripened 
the  harvest,  forgot  to  provide  for  Youth  and  Intellect. 

"Youth  will  explode  like  the  boiler-  of  a  steam-engine. 
Youth  has  no  outlet  in  France ;  it  is  gathering  an  avalanche 
of  underrated  capabilities,  of  legitimate  and  restless  ambi- 
tions ;  young  men  are  not  marrying  now ;  families  cannot  tell 
what  to  do  with  their  children.  What  will  the  thunderclap 
be  that  will  shake  down  these  masses  ?  I  know  not,  but  they 
will  crash  down  into  the  midst  of  things,  and  overthrow 
everything.  These  are  laws  of  hydrostatics  which  act  on  the 
human  race;  the  Eoman  Empire  had  failed  to  understand 
them,  and  the  Barbaric  hordes  came  down. 

"The  Barbaric  hordes  now  are  the  intelligent  class.  The 
laws  of  overpressure  are  at  this  moment  acting  slowly  and 
silently  in  our  midst.  The  Government  is  the  great  criminal ; 
it  does  not  appreciate  the  two  powers  to  which  it  owes  every- 


z.  MARCAS  361 

thing;  it  has  allowed  its  hands  to  be  tied  by  the  absurdities 
of  the  Contract ;  it  is  bound,  ready  to  be  the  victim. 

"Louis  XIV.,  Napoleon,  England,  all  were  or  are  eager  for 
intelligent  youth.  In  France  the  young  are  condemned  by 
the  new  legislation,  by  the  blundering  principles  of  elective 
rights,  by  the  unsoundness  of  the  ministerial  constitution. 

"Look  at  the  elective  Chamber;  you  will  find  no  deputies 
of  thirty ;  the  youth  of  Eichelieu  and  of  Mazarin,  of  Turenne 
and  of  Colbert,  of  Pitt  and  of  Saint-Just,  of  Napoleon  and 
of  Prince  Metternich,  would  find  no  admission  there;  Burke, 
Sheridan,  or  Fox  could  not  win  seats.  Even  if  political 
majority  had  been  fixed  at  one-and-twenty,  and  eligibility 
had  been  relieved  of  evey  disabling  qualification,  the  Depart- 
ments would  have  returned  the  very  same  members,  men 
devoid  of  political  talent,  unable  to  speak  without  murdering 
French  grammar,  and  among  whom,  in  ten  years,  scarcely 
one  statesman  has  been  found. 

"The  causes  of  an  impending  event  may  be  seen,  but  the 
event  itself  cannot  be  foretold.  At  this  moment  the  youth 
of  France  is  being  driven  into  Eepublicanism,  because  it  be- 
lieves that  the  Kepublic  would  bring  it  emancipation.  It 
will  always  remember  the  young  representatives  of  the  people 
and  the  young  army  leaders!  The  imprudence  of  the  Gov- 
ernment is  only  comparable  to  its  avarice." 

That  day  left  its  echoes  in  our  lives.  Marcas  confirmed  us 
in  our  resolution  to  leave  France,  where  young  men  of  talent 
and  energy  are  crushed  under  the  weight  of  successful  com- 
monplace, envious,  and  insatiable  middle  age. 

We  dined  together  in  the  Eue  de  la  Harpe.  We  thence- 
forth felt  for  Marcas  the  most  respectful  affection;  he  gave 
us  the  most  practical  aid  in  the  sphere  of  the  mind.  That 
man  knew  everything;  he  had  studied  everything.  For  us 
he  cast  his  eye  over  the  whole  civilized  world,  seeking  the 
country  where  openings  would  be  at  once  the  most  abundant 
and  the  most  favorable  to  the  success  of  our  plans.  He  in- 
dicated what  should  be  the  goal  of  our  studies;  he  bid  us 
make  haste,  explaining  to  us  that  time  was  precious,  that 


382  Z.  MARCAS 

emigration  would  presently  begin,  and  that  its  effect  would 
be  to  deprive  France  of  the  cream  of  its  powers  and  of  its 
youthful  talent ;  that  their  intelligence,  necessarily  sharpened, 
would  select  the  best  places,  and  that  the  great  thing  was  to 
be  first  in  the  field. 

Thenceforward,  we  often  sat  late  at  work  under  the  lamp. 
Our  generous  instructor  wrote  some  notes  for  our  guidance — 
two  pages  for  Juste  and  three  for  me — full  of  invaluable 
advice — the  sort  of  information  which  experience  alone  can 
supply,  such  landmarks  as  only  genius  can  place.  In  those 
papers,  smelling  of  tobacco,  and  covered  with  writing  so  vile 
as  to  be  almost  hieroglyphic,  there  are  suggestions  for  a 
fortune,  and  forecasts  of  unerring  acumen.  There  are  hints 
as  to  certain  parts  of  America  and  Asia  which  have  been  fully 
justified,  both  before  and  since  Juste  and  I  could  set  out. 

Marcas,  like  us,  was  in  the  most  abject  poverty.  He  earned, 
indeed,  his  daily  bread,  but  he  had  neither  linen,  clothes,  nor 
shoes.  He  did  not  make  himself  out  any  better  than  he  was ; 
his  dreams  had  been  of  luxury  as  well  as  of  power.  He  did 
not  admit  that  this  was  the  real  Marcas;  he  abandoned  his 
person,  indeed,  to  the  caprices  of  life.  What  he  lived  by  was 
the  breath  of  ambition ;  he  dreamed  of  revenge  while  blaming 
himself  for  yielding  to  so  shallow  a  feeling.  The  true  states- 
man ought,  above  all  things,  to  be  superior  to  vulgar  passions ; 
like  the  man  of  science,  he  should  have  no  passion  but  for  his 
science.  It  was  in  these  days  of  dire  necessity  that  Marcas 
seemed  to  us  so  great — nay,  so  terrible ;  there  was  something 
awful  in  the  gaze  which  saw  another  world  than  that  which 
strikes  the  eye  of  ordinary  men.  To  us  he  was  a  subject  of 
contemplation  and  astonishment;  for  the  young — which  of 
us  has  not  known  it  ? — the  young  have  a  keen  craving  to  ad- 
mire; they  love  to  attach  themselves,  and  are  naturally  in- 
clined to  submit  to  the  men  they  feel  to  be  superior,  as  they 
are  to  devote  themselves  to  a  great  cause. 

Our  surprise  was  chiefly  aroused  by  his  indifference  in  mat- 
ters of  sentiment;  woman  had  no  place  in  his  life.  When  we 
spoke  of  this  matter,  a  perennial  theme  of  conversation  among 
Frenchmen,  he  simply  remarked: 


Z.  MARCAS  363 

"Gowns  cost  too  much." 

He  saw  the  look  that  passed  between  Juste  and  me,  and 
went  on : 

"Yes,  far  too  much.  The  woman  you  buy — and  she  is  the 
least  expensive — takes  a  great  deal  of  money.  The  woman 
who  gives  herself  takes  all  your  time !  Woman  extinguishes 
every  energy,  every  ambition.  Napoleon  reduced  her  to  what 
she  should  be.  From  that  point  of  view,  he  really  was  great. 
He  did  not  indulge  such  ruinous  fancies  of  Louis  XIV.  and 
Louis  XV. ;  at  the  same  time,  he  could  love  in  secret." 

We  discovered  that,  like  Pitt,  who  made  England  his  wife, 
Marcas  bore  France  in  his  heart;  he  idolized  his  country;  he 
had  not  a  thought  that  was  not  for  his  native  land.  His  fury 
at  feeling  that  he  had  in  his  hands  the  remedy  for  the  evils 
which  so  deeply  saddened  him,  and  could  not  apply  it,  ate 
into  his  soul,  and  this  rage  was  increased  by  the  inferiority  of 
France  at  that  time,  as  compared  with  Russia  and  England. 
France  a  third-rate  power!  This  cry  came  up  again  and 
again  in  his  conversation.  The  intestinal  disorders  of  his 
country  had  entered  into  his  soul.  All  the  contests  between 
the  Court  and  the  Chamber,  showing,  as  they  did,  incessant 
change  and  constant  vacillation,  which  must  injure  the  pros- 
perity of  the  country,  he  scoffed  at  as  backstairs  squabbles. 

"This  is  peace  at  the  cost  of  the  future,"  said  he. 

One  evening  Juste  and  I  were  at  work,  sitting  in  perfect 
silence.  Marcas  had  just  risen  to  toil  at  his  copying,  for  he 
had  refused  our  assistance  in  spite  of  our  most  earnest  en- 
treaties. We  had  offered  to  take  it  in  turns  to  copy  a  batch 
of  manuscript,  so  that  he  should  do  but  a  third  of  his  dis- 
tasteful task;  he  had  been  quite  angry,  and  we  had  ceased  to 
insist. 

\Ve  heard  the  sound  of  gentlemanly  boots  in  the  pas- 
sage, and  raised  our  heads,  lefoking  at  each  other.  There  was 
a  tap  at  Marcas'  door — he  ne^e£  took  the  key  out  of  the  lock — • 
and  \ve  heard  the  hero  answer  J" 

"Come  in."    Then— "Wl&t !  ^ou  here,  monsieur?" 


364  Z.  MARCAS 

"I  myself,"  replied  the  retired  minister. 

It  was  the  Diocletian  of  this  unknown  martyr. 

For  some  time  he  and  our  neighbor  conversed  in  an  under 
tone.     Suddenly  Marcas,   whose  voice   had  been  heard  but 
rarely,  as  is  natural  in  a  dialogue  in  which  the  applicant  be- 
gins by  setting  forth  the  situation,  broke  out  loudly  in  reply 
to  some  offer  we  had  not  overheard. 

"You  would  laugh  at  me  for  a  fool,"  cried  he,  "if  I  took 
you  at  your  word.  Jesuits  are  a  thing  of  the  past,  but  Jesuit- 
ism is  eternal.  Your  Machiavelism  and  your  generosity  are 
equally  hollow  and  untrustworthy.  You  can  make  your  own 
calculations,  but  who  can  calculate  on  you?  Your  Court  is 
made  up  of  owls  who  fear  the  light,  of  old  men  who  quake 
in  the  presence  of  the  young,  or  who  simply  disregard  them. 
The  Government  is  formed  on  the  same  pattern  as  the  Court. 
You  have  hunted  up  the  remains  of  the  Empire,  as  the 
Restoration  enlisted  the  Voltigeurs  of  Louis  XIV. 

"Hitherto  the  evasions  of  cowardice  have  been  taken  for 
the  manoeuvring  of  ability;  but  dangers  will  come,  and  the 
younger  generation  will  rise  as  they  did  in  1790.  They  did 
grand  things  then. — Just  now  you  change  ministries  as  a 
sick  man  turns  in  his  bed ;  these  oscillations  betray  the  weak- 
ness of  the  Government.  You  work  on  an  underhand  system 
•of  policy  which  will  be  turned  against  you,  for  France  will 
be  tired  of  your  shuffling.  France  will  not  tell  you  that  she 
is  tired  of  you;  a  man  never  knows  whence  his  ruin  comes; 
it  is  the  historian's  task  to  find  out ;  but  you  will  undoubtedly 
perish  as  the  reward  of  not  having  the  youth  of  France  to 
lend  you  its  strength  and  energy;  for  having  hated  really 
capable  men ;  for  not  having  lovingly  chosen  them  from  this 
noble  generation ;  for  having  in  all  cases  preferred  mediocrity. 

"You  have  come  to  ask  my  support,  but  you  are  an  atom 
in  that  decrepit  heap  which  is  made  hideous  by  self-interest, 
which  trembles  and  squirms,  a»d/  because  it  is  so  mean,  tries 
to  make  France  mean  too.  My  strong  nature,  my  ideas, 
would  work  like  poison  in  you;,  .twice  you  have  tricked  me, 
twice  have  I  overthrown  you.  If  we  unite  a  third  time,  it 


Z.  MARCAS  365 

must  be  a  very  serious  matter.  I  should  kill  myself  if  I 
allowed  myself  to  be  duped;  for  I  should  be  to  blame,  not 
you." 

Then  we  heard  the  humblest  entreaties,  the  most  fervent 
adjurations,  not  to  deprive  the  country  of  such  superior 
talents.  The  man  spoke  of  patriotism,  and  Marcas  uttered 
a  significant  "Ouh!  ouh!"  He  laughed  at  his  would-be 
patron.  Then  the  statesman  was  more  explicit;  he  bowed  to 
the  superiority  of  his  erewhile  counselor;  he  pledged  himself 
to  enable  Marcas  to  remain  in  office,  to  be  elected  deputy; 
then  he  offered  him  a  high  appointment,  promising  him  that 
he,  the  speaker,  would  thenceforth  be  the  subordinate  of  a 
man  whose  subaltern  he  was  only  worthy  to  be.  He  was  in 
the  newly-formed  ministry,  and  he  would  not  return  to  power 
unless  Marcas  had  a  post  in  proportion  to  his  merit;  he  had 
already  made  it  a  condition,  Marcas  had  been  regarded  as 
indispensable. 

Marcas  refused. 

"I  have  never  before  been  in  a  position  to  keep  my  prom- 
ises ;  here  is  an  opportunity  of  proving  myself  faithful  to  my 
word,  and  you  fail  me." 

To  this  Marcas  made  no  reply.  The  boots  were  again 
audible  in  the  passage  on  the  way  to  the  stairs. 

"Marcas !  Marcas !"  we  both  cried,  rushing  into  his  room. 
"Why  refuse?  He  really  meant  it.  His  offers  are  very 
handsome;  at  any  rate,  go  to  see  the  ministers." 

In  a  twinkling,  we  had  given  Marcas  a  hundred  reasons. 
The  minister's  voice  was  sincere ;  without  seeing  him,  we  had 
felt  sure  that  he  was  honest. 

"I  have  no  clothes,"  replied  Marcas. 

"Eely  on  us,"  said  Juste,  with  a  glance  at  me. 

Marcas  had  the  courage  to  trust  us;  a  light  flashed  in  his 
eye,  he  pushed  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  lifting  it  from  his 
forehead  with  a  gesture  that  showed  some  confidence  in  his 
luck ;  and  when  he  had  thus  unveiled  his  face,  so  to  speak,  we 
saw  in  him  a  man  absolutely  unknown  to  us — Marcas  sublime, 
Marcas  in  his  power!  His  mind  in  its  element — the  bird 


366  Z.  MARCAS 

restored  to  the  free  air,  the  fish,  to  the  water,  the  horse  gal- 
loping across  the  plain. 

It  was  transient.  His  brow  clouded  again;  he  had,  it 
would  seem,  a  vision  of  his  fate.  Halting  doubt  had  followed 
close  on  the  heels  of  white-winged  hope. 

We  left  him  to  himself. 

"Now,  then/'  said  I  to  the  Doctor,  "we  have  given  our 
word ;  how  are  we  to  keep  it  ?" 

"We  will  sleep  upon  it,"  said  Juste,  "and  to-morrow  morn- 
ing we  will  talk  it  over." 

Next  morning  we  went  for  a  walk  in  the  Luxembourg. 

We  had  had  time  to  think  over  the  incident  of  the  past 
night,  and  were  both  equally  surprised  at  the  lack  of  address 
shown  by  Marcas  in  the  minor  difficulties  of  life — he,  a  man 
who  never  saw  any  difficulties  in  the  solution  of  the  hardest 
problems  of  abstract  or  practical  politics.  But  these  elevated 
characters  can  all  be  tripped  up  on  a  grain  of  sand,  and  will, 
like  the  grandest  enterprise,  miss  fire  for  want  of  a  thousand 
francs.  It  is  the  old  story  of  Napoleon,  who,  for  lack  of  a 
pair  of  boots,  did  not  set  out  for  India. 

"Well,  what  have  you  hit  upon?"  asked  Juste. 

"I  have  thought  of  a  way  to  get  him  a  complete  outfit/' 

"Where?" 

"From  Humann." 

"How?" 

"Humann,  my  boy,  never  goes  to  his  customers — his  cus- 
tomers go  to  him;  so  that  he  does  not  know  whether  I  am 
rich  or  poor.  He  only  knows  that  I  dress  well  and  look 
decent  in  the  clothes  he  makes  for  me.  I  shall  tell  him  that 
an  uncle  of  mine  has  dropped  in  from  the  country,  and  that 
his  indifference  in  matters  of  dress  is  quite  a  discredit  to  me 
in  the  upper  circles  where  I  am  trying  to  find  a  wife. — It  will 
not  be  Humann  if  he  sends  in  his  bill  before  three  months." 

The  Doctor  thought  this  a  capital  idea  for  a  vaudeville, 
but  poor  enough  in  real  life,  and  doubted  my  success.  But 
I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  Humann  dressed  Marcas,  and, 
being  an  artist,  turned  him  out  as  a  political  personage  ought 
to  be  dressed. 


Z.  MARCAS  367 

Juste  lent  Marcas  two  hundred  francs  in  gold,  the  product 
of  two  watches  bought  on  credit,  and  pawned  at  the  Mont- 
de-Piete.  For  my  part,  I  had  said  nothing  of  six  shirts  and 
all  necessary  linen,  which  cost  me  no  more  than  the  pleasure 
of  asking  for  them  from  a  forewoman  in  a  shop  whom  I  had 
treated  to  Musard's  during  the  carnival. 

Marcas  accepted  everything,  thanking  us  no  more  than  he 
ought.  He  only  inquired  as  to  the  means  by  which  we  had 
got  possession  of  such  riches,  and  we  made  him  laugh  for  the 
last  time.  We  looked  on  our  Marcas  as  shipowners,  when 
they  have  exhausted  their  credit  and  every  resource  at  their 
command  to  fit  out  a  vessel,  must  look  on  it  as  it  puts  to  sea. 

Here  Charles  was  silent;  he  seemed  crushed  by  his  mem- 
ories. 

"Well,"  cried  the  audience,  "and  what  happened?" 

"I  will  tell  you  in  a  few  words — for  this  is  not  romance — 
it  is  history." 

We  saw  no  more  of  Marcas.  The  administration  lasted 
for  three  months;  it  fell  at  the  end  of  the  session.  Then 
Marcas  came  back  to  us,  worked  to  death.  He  had  sounded 
the  crater  of  power ;  he  came  away  from  it  with  the  beginnings 
of  brain  fever.  The  disease  made  rapid  progress;  we  nursed 
him.  Juste  at  once  called  in  the  chief  physician  of  the  hos- 
pital where  he  was  working  as  house-surgeon.  I  was  then 
living  alone  in  our  room,  and  I  was  the  most  attentive  at- 
tendant; but  care  and  science  alike  were  in  vain.  By  the 
month  of  January,  1838,  Marcas  himself  felt  that  he  had  but 
a  few  days  to  live. 

The  man  whose  soul  and  brain  he  had  been  for  six  months 
never  even  sent  to  inquire  after  him.  Marcas  expressed  the 
greatest  contempt  for  the  Government;  he  seemed  to  doubt 
what  the  fate  of  France  might  be,  and  it  was  this  doubt  that 
had  made  him  ill.  He  had,  he  thought,  detected  treason 
in  the  heart  of  power,  not  tangible,  seizable  treason,  the  result 
of  facts,  but  the  treason  of  a  system,  the  subordination  of 
national  interests  to  selfish  ends.  His  belief  in  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  country  was  enough  to  aggravate  his  complaint. 


368  Z.  MARCAS 

I  myself  was  witness  to  the  proposals  made  to  him  by  one 
of  the  leaders  of  the  antagonistic  party  which  he  had  fought 
against.  His  hatred  of  the  men  he  had  tried  to  serve  was 
so  virulent,  that  he  would  gladly  have  joined  the  coalition 
that  was  about  to  be  formed  among  certain  ambitious  spirits 
who,  at  least,  had  one  idea  in  common — that  of  shaking  off 
the  yoke  of  the  Court.  But  Marcas  could  only  reply  to  the 
envoy  in  the  words  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville : 

"It  is  too  late  !" 

Marcas  did  not  leave  money  enough  to  pay  for  his  funeral. 
Juste  and  I  had  great  difficulty  in  saving  him  from  the 
ignominy  of  a  pauper's  bier,  and  we  alone  followed  the  coffin 
of  Z.  Marcas,  which  was  dropped  into  the  common  grave  of 
the  cemetery  of  Mont-Parnasse. 

We  looked  sadly  at  each  other  as  we  listened  to  this  tale, 
the  last  we  heard  from  the  lips  of  Charles  Rabourdin  the 
day  before  he  embarked  at  le  Havre  on  a  brig  that  was  to 
convey  him  to  the  islands  of  Malay.  We  all  knew  more  than 
one  Marcas,  more  than  one  victim  of  his  devotion  to  a  party, 
repaid  by  betrayal  or  neglect. 

LES  JARDIKS,  May  1840. 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 


COPYRIGHT,  1898, 
.  M.  DENT  &  COMPANY 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

To   Monsieur   Guyonnet-Merville. 

Is  it  not  a  necessity  to  explain  to  a  public  curious  to  know  every- 
thing, how  I  came  to  be  sufficiently  learned  in  the  law  to  carry  on 
the  business  of  my  little  world?  And  in  so  doing,  am  I  not  bound 
to  put  on  record  the  memory  of  the  amiable  and  intelligent  man 
who,  meeting  Scribe  (another  clerk-amateur)  at  a  ball,  said,  "Just 
give  the  office  a  turn;  there  is  work  for  you  there,  I  assure  you"? 
But  do  you  need  this  public  testimony  to  feel  assured  of  the  affec- 
tion of  the  writer  ? 

DE  BALZAC. 

ON  the  22d  of  January,  1793,  towards  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  an  old  lady  came  down  the  steep  street  that  comes 
to  an  end  opposite  the  Church  of  Saint  Lauirent  in  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Martin.  It  had  snowed  so  heavily  all  day 
long  that  the  lady's  footsteps  were  scarcely  audible;  the 
streets  were  deserted,  and  a  feeling  of  dread,  not  unnatural 
amid  the  silence,  was  further  increased  by  the  whole  extent 
of  the  Terror  beneath  which  France  was  groaning  in  those 
days;  what  was  more,  the  old  lady  so  far  had  met  no  one  by 
the  way.  Her  sight  had  long  been  failing,  so  that  the  few 
foot  passengers  dispersed  like  shadows  in  the  distance  over 
the  wide  thoroughfare  through  the  faubourg,  were  quite 
invisible  to  her  by  the  light  of  the  lanterns. 

She  had  passed  the  end  of  the  Rue  des  Morts,  when  she 
fancied  that  she  could  hear  the  firm,  heavy  tread  of  a  man 
walking  behind  her.  Then  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  had 
heard  that  sound  before,  and  dismayed  by  the  idea  of  being 
followed,  she  tried  to  walk  faster  toward  a  brightly  lit  shop 
window,  in  the  hope  of  verifying  the  suspicions  which  had 
taken  hold  of  her  mind. 
TOL.  16-55 


372  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

So  soon  as  she  stood  in  the  shaft  of  light  that  streamed 
out  across  the  road,  she  turned  her  head  suddenly,  and 
caught  sight  of  a  human  figure  looming  through  the  fog. 
The  dim  vision  was  enough  for  her.  For  one  moment  she 
reeled  beneath  an  overpowering  weight  of  dread,  for  she 
could  not  doubt  any  longer  that  the  man  had  followed  her 
the  whole  way  from  her  own  door;  then  the  desire  to  escape 
from  the  spy  gave  her  strength.  Unable  to  think  clearly,  she 
walked  twice  as  fast  as  before,  as  if  it  were  possible  to 
escape  from  a  man  who  of  course  could  move  much  faster; 
and  for  some  minutes  she  fled  on,  till,  reaching  a  pastry- 
cook's shop,  she  entered  and  sank  rather  than  sat  down  upon 
a  chair  by  the  counter. 

A  young  woman  busy  with  embroidery  looked  up  from  her 
work  at  the  rattling  of  the  door-latch,  and  looked  out  through 
the  square  window-panes.  She  seemed  to  recognize  the  old- 
fashioned  violet  silk  mantle,  for  she  went  at  once  to  a  drawer 
as  if  in  search  of  something  put  aside  for  the  newcomer. 
Not  only  did  this  movement  and  the  expression  of  the  woman's 
face  show  a  very  evident  desire  to  be  rid  as  soon  as  possible 
of  an  unwelcome  visitor,  but  she  even  permitted  herself  an 
impatient  exclamation  when  the  drawer  proved  to  be  empty. 
Without  looking  at  the  lady,  she  hurried  from  her  desk  into 
the  back  shop  and  called  to  her  husband,  who  appeared  at 
once. 

"Wherever  have  you  put? "  she  began  mysteriously, 

glancing  at  the  customer  by  way  of  finishing  her  question. 

The  pastry-cook  could  only  see  the  old  lady's  head-dress, 
a  huge  black  silk  bonnet  with  knots  of  violet  ribbon  round 
it,  but  he  looked  at  his  wife  as  who  should  say,  "Did  you 
think  I  should  leave  such  a  thing  as  that  lying  about  in  your 
drawer?"  and  then  vanished. 

The  old  lady  kept  so  still  and  silent  that  the  shopkeeper's 
wife  was  surprised.  She  went  back  to  her,  and  on  a  nearer 
view  a  sudden  impulse  of  pity,  blended  perhaps  with  curi- 
osity, got  the  better  of  her.  The  old  lady's  face  was  naturally 
pale;  she  looked  as  though  she  secretly  practised  austerities; 


.AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  373 

but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  she  was  paler  than  usual  from 
recent  agitation  of  some  kind.  Her  head-dress  was  so  ar- 
ranged as  almost  to  hide  hair  that  was  white,  no  doubt  with 
age,  for  there  was  not  a  trace  of  powder  on  the  collar  of  her 
dress.  The  extreme  plainness  of  her  dress  lent  an  air  of 
austerity  to  her  face,  and  her  features  were  proud  and  grave. 
The  manners  and  habits  of  people  of  condition  were  so 
different  from  those  of  other  classes  in  former  times  that  a 
noble  was  easily  known,  and  the  shopkeeper's  wife  felt  per- 
suaded that  her  customer  was  a  ci-devant,  and  that  she  had 
been  about  the  Court. 

"Madame,"  she  began  with  involuntary  respect,  forgetting 
that  the  title  was  proscribed. 

But  the  old  lady  made  no  answer.  She  was  staring  fixedly 
at  the  shop  window  as  though  some  dreadful  thing  had  taken 
shape  against  the  panes.  The  pastry-cook  came  back  at  that 
moment,  and  drew  the  lady  from  her  musings,  by  holding 
out  a  little  cardboard  box  wrapped  in  blue  paper. 

"What  is  the  matter,  citoyenne?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing,  nothing,  my  friends,"  she  answered,  in  a  gentle 
voice.  She  looked  up  at  the  man  as  she  spoke,  as  if  to  thank 
him  by  a  glance;  but  she  saw  the  red  cap  on  his  head,  and 
a  cry  broke  from  her.  "Ah  !  You  have  betrayed  me !" 

The  man  and  his  young  wife  replied  by  an  indignant 
gesture,  that  brought  the  color  to  the  old  lady's  face ;  perhaps 
she  felt  relief,  perhaps  she  blushed  for  her  suspicions. 

"Forgive  me !"  she  said,  with  a  childlike  sweetness  in  her 
tones.  Then,  drawing  a  gold  louis  from  her  pocket,  she  held 
it  out  to  the  pastry-cook.  "That  is  the  price  agreed  upon," 
she  added. 

There  is  a  kind  of  want  that  is  felt  instinctively  by  those 
who  know  want.  The  man  and  his  wife  looked  at  one  another, 
then  at  the  elderly  woman  before  them,  and  read  the  same 
thoughts  in  each  other's  eyes.  That  bit  of  gold  was  so  plainly 
the  last.  Her  hands  shook  a  little  as  she  held  it  out,  looking 
at  it  sadly  but  ungrudgingly,  as  one  who  knows  the  full  ex- 
tent of  the  sacrifice.  Hunger  and  penury  had  carved  lines 


374  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

as  easy  to  read  in  her  face  as  the  traces  of  asceticism  and  fear. 
There  were  vestiges  of  bygone  splendor  in  her  clothes.  She 
was  dressed  in  threadbare  silk,  a  neat  but  well-worn  mantle, 
and  daintily  mended  lace, — in  the  rags  of  former  grandeur,  in 
short.  The  shopkeeper  and  his  wife,  drawn  two  ways  by  pity 
and  self-interest,  began  by  lulling  their  consciences  with 
words. 

"You  seem  very  poorly,  citoyenne " 

"Perhaps  madame  might  like  to  take  something,"  the  wife 
broke  in. 

"We  have  some  very*  nice  broth,"  added  the  pastry-cook. 

"And  it  is  so  cold,"  continued  his  wife ;  "perhaps  you  have 
caught  a  chill,  madame,  on  your  way  here.  But  you  can  rest 
and  warm  yourself  a  bit." 

"We  are  not  so  black  as  the  devil !"  cried  the  man. 

The  kindly  intention  in  the  words  and  tones  of  the  charita- 
ble couple  won  the  old  lady's  confidence.  She  said  that  a 
strange  man  had  been  following  her,  and  she  was  afraid  to 
go  home  alone. 

"Is  that  all !'  returned  he  of  the  red  bonnet ;  "wait  for  me, 
citoyenne." 

He  handed  the  gold  coin  to  his  wife,  and  then  went  out  to 
put  on  his  National  Guard's  uniform,  impelled  thereto  by 
the  idea  of  making  some  adequate  return  for  the  money;  an 
idea  -that  sometimes  slips  into  a  tradesman's  head  when  he 
has  been  prodigiously  overpaid  for  goods  of  no  great  value. 
He  took  up  his  cap,  buckled  on  his  sabre,  and  came  out  in 
full  dress.  But  his  wife  had  had  time  to  reflect,  and  reflec- 
tion, as  not  unfrequently  happens,  closed  the  hand  that  kindly 
intentions  had  opened.  Feeling  frightened  and  uneasy  lest 
her  husband  might  be  drawn  into  something  unpleasant,  she 
tried  to  catch  at  the  skirt  of  his  coat,  to  hold  him  back,  but 
he,  good  soul,  obeying  his  charitable  first  thought,  brought 
out  his  offer  to  see  the  lady  home,  before  his  wife  could  stop 
him. 

"The  man  of  whom  the  citoyenne  is  afraid  is  still  prowling 
about  the  shop,  it  seems,"  she  said  sharply. 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  375 

"I  am  afraid  so,"  said  the  lady  innocently. 

"How  if  it  is  a  spy  ?  .  .  .  a  plot  ?  .  .  .  Don't  go. 
And  take  the  box  away  from  her " 

The  words  whispered  in  the  pastry-cook's  ear  cooled  his  hot 
fit  of  courage  down  to  zero. 

"Oh !  I  will  just  go  out  and  say  a  word  or  two.  I  will  rid 
you  of  him  soon  enough,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  bounced  out 
of  the  shop. 

The  old  lady  meanwhile,  passive  as  a  child  and  almost 
dazed,  sat  down  on  her  chair  again.  But  the  honest  pastry- 
cook came  back  directly.  A  countenance  red  enough  to  begin 
with,  and  further  flushed  by  the  bake-house  fire,  was  suddenly 
blanched;  such  terror  perturbed  him  that  he  reeled  as  he 
walked,  and  stared  about  him  like  a  drunken  man. 

"Miserable  aristocrat !  Do  you  want  to  have  our  heads  cut 
off  ?"  he  shouted  furiously.  "You  just  take  to  your  heels  and 
never  show  yourself  here  again.  Don't  come  to  me  for  ma- 
terials for  your  plots." 

He  tried,  as  he  spoke,  to  take  away  the  little  box  which  she 
had  slipped  into  one  of  her  pockets.  But  at  the  touch  of  a 
profane  hand  on  her  clothes,  the  stranger  recovered  youth  and 
activity  for  a  moment,  preferring  to  face  the  dangers  of  the 
street  with  no  protector  save  God,  to  the  loss  of  the  thing 
that  she  had  just  paid  for.  She  sprang  to  the  door,  flung  it 
open,  and  disappeared,  leaving  the  husband  and  wife  dum- 
founded  and  quaking  with  fright. 

Once  outside  in  the  street,  she  started  away  at  a  quick 
walk ;  but  her  strength  soon  failed  her.  She  heard  the  sound 
of  the  snow  crunching  under  a  heavy  step,  and  knew  that  the 
pitiless  spy  was  on  her  track.  She  was  obliged  to  stop.  He 
stopped  likewise.  From  sheer  terror,  or  lack  of  intelligence, 
she  did  not  dare  to  speak  or  to  look  at  him.  She  went  slowly 
on;  the  man  slackened  his  pace  and  fell  behind  so  that 
he  could  still  keep  her  in  sight.  He  might  have  been  her  very 
shadow. 

Nine  o'clock  struck  as  the  silent  man  and  woman  passed 
again  by  the  Church  of  Saint  Laurent.  It  is  in  the  nature 


376 

of  things  that  calm  must  succeed  to  violent  agitation,  even 
in  the  weakest  soul;  for  if  feeling  is  infinite,  our  capacity  to 
feel  is  limited.  So,  as  the  stranger  lady  met  with  no  harm 
from  her  supposed  persecutor,  she  tried  to  look  upon  him  as 
an  unknown  friend  anxious  to  protect  her.  She  thought  of 
all  the  circumstances  in  which  the  stranger  had  appeared, 
and  put  them  together,  as  if  to  find  some  ground  for  this 
comforting  theory,  and  felt  inclined  to  credit  him  with  good 
intentions  rather  than  bad. 

Forgetting  the  fright  that  he  had  given  the  pastry-cook, 
she  walked  on  with  a  firmer  step  through  the  upper  end 
of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Martin;  and  another  half-hour's 
walk  brought  her  to  a  house  at  the  corner  where  the  road 
to  the  Barriere  de  Pantin  turns  off  from  the  main  thorough- 
fare. Even  at  this  day,  the  place  is  one  of  the  least  fre- 
quented parts  of  Paris.  The  north  wind  sweeps  over  the 
Buttes-Chaumont  and  Belleville,  and  whistles  through  the 
houses  (the  hovels  rather),  scattered  over  an  almost  unin- 
habited low-lying  waste,  where  the  fences  are  heaps  of  earth 
and  bones.  It  was  a  desolate-looking  place,  a  fitting  refuge 
for  despair  and  misery. 

The  sight  of  it  appeared  to  make  an  impression  upon  the 
relentless  pursuer  of  a  poor  creature  so  daring  as  to  walk 
alone  at  night  through  the'silent  streets.  He  stood  in  thought, 
and  seemed  by  his  attitude  to  hesitate.  She  could  see  him 
dimly  now,  under  the  street  lamp  that  sent  a  faint,  flickering 
light  through  the  fog.  Fear  gave  her  eyes.  She  saw,  or 
thought  she  saw,  something  sinister  about  the  stranger's 
features.  Her  old  terrors  awoke;  she  took  advantage  of  a 
kind  of  hesitation  on  his  part,  slipped  through  the  shadows 
to  the  door  of  the  solitary  house,  pressed  a  spring,  and  van- 
ished swiftly  as  a  phantom. 

For  awhile  the  stranger  stood  motionless,  gazing  up  at 
the  house.  It  was  in  some  sort  a  type  of  the  wretched 
dwellings  in  the  suburb;  a  tumble-down  hovel,  built  of 
rough  stones,  daubed  over  with  a  coat  of  yellowish  stucco, 
and  so  riven  with  great  cracks  that  there  seemed  to  be  danger 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  377 

3est  the  slightest  puff  of  wind  might  blow  it  down.  The 
roof,  covered  with  brown  moss-grown  tiles,  had  given  way 
in  several  places,  and  looked  as  though  it  might  break  down 
altogether  under  the  weight  of  the  snow.  The  frames  of 
the  three  windows  on  each  story  were  rotten  with  damp  and 
warped  by  the  sun ;  evidently  the  cold  must  find  its  way  inside. 
The  house  standing  thus  quite  by  itself  looked  like  some  old 
tower  that  Time  had  forgotten  to  destroy.  A  faint  light 
shone  from  the  attic  windows  pierced  at  irregular  distances 
in  the  roof;  otherwise  the  whole  building  was  in  total  dark- 
ness. 

Meanwhile  the  old  lady  climbed  not  without  difficulty  up 
the  rough,  clumsily  built  staircase,  with  a  rope  by  way  of  a 
hand-rail.  At  the  door  of  the  lodging  in  the  attic  she  stopped 
and  tapped  mysteriously;  an  old  man  brought  forward  a 
chair  for  her.  She  dropped  into  it  at  once. 

"Hide  !  hide  !"  she  exclaimed,  looking  up  at  him.  "Seldom 
as  we  leave  the  house,  everything  that  we  do  is  known,  and 
every  step  is  watched " 

"What  is  it  now?"  asked  another  elderly  woman,  sitting 
by  the  fire. 

"The  man  that  has  been  prowling  about  the  house  yes- 
terday and  to-day,  followed  me  to-night " 

At  those  words  all  three  dwellers  in  the  wretched  den 
looked  in  each  other's  faces  and  did  not  try  to  dissimulate 
the  profound  dread  that  they  felt.  The  old  priest  was  the  least 
overcome,  probably  because  he  ran  the  greatest  danger.  If  a 
brave  man  is  weighed  down  by  great  calamities  or  the  yoke  of 
persecution,  he  begins,  as  it  were,  by  making  the  sacrifice  of 
himself ;  and  thereafter  every  day  of  his  life  becomes  one  more 
victory  snatched  from  fate.  But  from  the  way  in  which  the 
women  looked  at  him  it  was  easy  to  see  that  their  intense 
anxiety  was  on  his  account. 

"Why  should  our  faith  in  God  fail  us,  my  sisters?"  he 
said,  in  low  but  fervent  tones.  "We  sang  His  praises  through 
the  shrieks  of  murderers  and  their  victims  at  the  Carmelites. 
If  it  was  His  will  that  I  should  come  alive  out  of  that 


378  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

butchery,  it  was,  no  doubt,  because  I  was  reserved  for  some 
fate  which  I  am  bound  to  endure  without  murmuring.  God 
will  protect  His  own ;  He  can  do  with  them  according  to  His 
will.  It  is  for  you,  not  for  me  that  we  must  think." 

"No,"  answered  one  of  the  women.  "What  is  our  life 
compared  with  a  priest's  life?" 

"Once  outside  the  Abbaye  de  Chelles,  I  look  upon  myself 
as  dead,"  added  the  nun  who  had  not  left  the  house,  while 
the  Sister  that  had  just  returned  held  out  the  little  box  to  the 
priest. 

"Here  are  the  wafers  .  .  .  but  I  can  hear  some  one  coming 
up  the  stairs." 

At  this,  the  three  began  to  listen.    The  sound  c£ased. 

"Do  not  be  alarmed  if  somebody  tries  to  come  in,"  said 
the  priest.  "Somebody  on  whom  we  could  depend  was  to 
make  all  necessary  arrangements  for  crossing  the  frontier. 
He  is  to  come  for  the  letters  that  I  have  written  to  the  Due 
de  Langeais  and  the  Marquis  de  Beauseant,  asking  them  to 
find  some  way  of  taking  you  out  of  this  dreadful  country, 
and  away  from  the  death  or  the  misery  that  waits  for  you 
here." 

"But  are  you  not  going  to  follow  us  ?"  the  nuns  cried  under 
their  breath,  almost  despairingly. 

"My  post  is  here  where  the  sufferers  are,"  the  priest  said 
simply,  and  the  women  said  no  more,  but  looked  at  their 
guest  in  reverent  admiration.  He  turned  to  the  nun  with 
the  wafers. 

"Sister  Marthe,"  he  said,  "the  messenger  will  say  Fiat 
Voluntas  in  answer  to  the  word  Hosanna." 

"There  is  some  one  on  the  stairs !"  cried  the  other  nun, 
opening  a  hiding-place  contrived  in  the  roof. 

This  time  it  was  easy  to  hear,  amid  the  deepest  silence,  a 
sound  echoing  up  the  staircase;  it  was  a  man's  tread  on  the 
steps  covered  with  dried  lumps  of  mud.  With  some  difficulty 
the  priest  slipped  into  a  kind  of  cupboard,  and  the  nun 
flung  some  clothes  over  him. 

"You  can  shut  the  door,  Sister  Agathe,"  he  said  in  a  muffled 
voice. 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  379 

He  was  scarcely  hidden  before  three  raps  sounded  on  the 
door.  The  holy  women  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  for 
counsel,  and  dared  not  say  a  single  word. 

They  seemed  both  to  be  about  sixty  years  of  age.  They 
had  lived  out  of  the  world  for  forty  years,  and  had  grown  so 
accustomed  to  the  life  of  the  convent  that  they  could  scarcely 
imagine  any  other.  To  them,  as  to  plants  kept  in  a  hot-house, 
a  change  of  air  meant  death.  And  so,  when  the  grating  was 
broken  down  one  morning,  they  knew  with  a  shudder  that 
they  were  free.  The  effect  produced  by  the  Eevolution  upon 
their  simple  souls  is  easy  to  imagine;  it  produced  a  tem- 
porary imbecility  not  natural  to  them.  They  could  not  bring 
the  ideas  learned  in  the  convent  into  harmony  with  life  and 
its  difficulties;  they  could  not  even  understand  their  own 
position.  They  were  like  children  whom  mothers  have  always 
cared  for,  deserted  by  their  maternal  providence.  And  as  a 
child  cries,  they  betook  themselves  to  prayer.  Now,  in  the 
presence  of  imminent  danger,  they  were  mute  and  passive, 
knowing  no  defence  save  Christian  resignation. 

The  man  at  the  door,  taking  silence  for  consent,  presented 
himself,  and  the  women  shuddered.  This  was  the  prowler 
that  had  been  making  inquiries  about  them  for  some  time 
past.  But  they  looked  at  him  with  frightened  curiosity,  much 
as  shy  children  stare  silently  at  a  stranger;  and  neither  of 
them  moved. 

The  newcomer  was  a  tall,  burly  man.  Nothing  in  his  be- 
havior, bearing,  or  expression  suggested  malignity  as,  follow- 
ing the  example  set  by  the  nuns,  he  stood  motionless,  while 
his  eyes  traveled  round  the  room. 

Two  straw  mats  laid  upon  planks  did  duty  as  beds.  On 
the  one  table,  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  stood  a  brass 
candlestick,  several  plates,  three  knives,  and  a  round  loaf. 
A  small  fire  burned  in  the  grate.  A  few  bits  of  wood  in  a 
heap  in  a  corner  bore  further  witness  to  the  poverty  of  the 
recluses.  You  had  only  to  look  at  the  coating  of  paint  on  the 
walls  to  discover  the  bad  condition  of  the  roof,  and  the  ceiling 
was  a  perfect  network  of  brown  stains  made  by  rain-water. 


380  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

A  relic,  saved  no  doubt  from  the  wreck  of.  the  Abbaye  de 
Chelles,  stood  like  an  ornament  on  the  chimney-piece.  Three 
chairs,  two  boxes,  and  a  rickety  chest  of  drawers  completed 
the  list  of  the  furniture,  but  a  door  beside  the  fireplace  sug- 
gested an  inner  room  beyond. 

The  brief  inventory  was  soon  made  by  the  personage  intro- 
duced into  their  midst  under  such  terrible  auspices.  It  was 
with  a  compassionate  expression  that  he  turned  to  the  two 
women ;  he  looked  benevolently  at  them,  and  seemed,  at  least, 
as  much  embarrassed  as  they.  But  the  strange  silence  did 
not  last  long,  for  presently  the  stranger  began  to  understand. 
He  saw  how  inexperienced,  how  helpless  (mentally  speak- 
ing), the  two  poor  creatures  were,  and  he  tried  to  speak 
gently. 

"I  am  far  from  coming  as  an  enemy,  citoyennes "  he 

began.  Then  he  suddenly  broke  off  and  went  on,  "Sisters, 
if  anything  should  happen  to  you,  believe  me,  I  shall  have  no 
share  in  it.  I  have  come  to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

Still  the  women  were  silent. 

"If  I  am  annoying  you — if — if  I  am  intruding,  speak 
freely,  and  I  will  go;  but  you  must  understand  that  I  am 
entirely  at  your  service;  that  if  I  can  do  anything  for  you, 
you  need  not  fear  to  make  use  of  me.  I,  and  I  only,  perhaps, 
am  above  the  law,  since  there  is  no  King  now." 

There  was  such  a  ring  of  sincerity  in  the  words  that  Sister 
Agathe  hastily  pointed  to  a  chair  as  if  to  bid  their  guest  be 
seated.  Sister  Agathe  came  of  the  house  of  Langeais;  her 
manner  seemed  to  indicate  that  once  she  had  been  familiar 
with  brilliant  scenes,  and  had  breathed  the  air  of  courts. 
The  stranger  seemed  half  pleased,  half  distressed  when  he 
understood  her  invitation;  he  waited  to  sit  down  until  the 
women  were  seated. 

"You  are  giving  shelter  to  a  reverend  father  who  refused 
to  take  the  oath,  and  escaped  the  massacres  at  the  Carmelites 
by  a  miracle " 

"Hosanna!"  Sister  Agathe  exclaimed  eagerly,  interrupting 
the  stranger,  while  she  watched  him  with  curious  eyes. 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  381 

"That  is  not  the  name,  I  think/'  he  said. 

"But,  monsieur,"  Sister  Marthe  hroke  in  quickly,  "we 
have  no  priest  here,  and — 

"In  that  case  you  should  be  more  careful  and  on  your 
guard,"  he  answered  gently,  stretching  out  his  hand  for  a 
breviary  that  lay  on  the  table.  "I  do  not  think  that  you 
know  Latin,  and " 

He  stopped;  for,  at  the  sight  of  the  great  emotion  in  the 
faces  of  the  two  poor  nuns,  he  was  afraid  that  he  had  gone 
too  far.  They  were  trembling,  and  the  tears  stood  in  their 
eyes. 

"Do  not  fear,"  he  said  frankly.  "I  know  your  names  and 
the  name  of  your  guest.  Three  days  ago  I  heard  of  your  dis- 
tress and  devotion  to  the  venerable  Abbe  de " 

"Hush!"  Sister  Agathe  cried,  in  the  simplicity  of  her 
heart,  as  she  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips. 

"You  see,  Sisters,  that  if  I  had  conceived  the  horrible  idea 
of  betraying  you,  I  could  have  given  you  up  already,  more 
than  once " 

At  the  words  the  priest  came  out  of  his  hiding-place  and 
stood  in  their  midst. 

"I  cannot  believe,  monsieur,  that  you  can  be  one  of  our 
persecutors,"  he  said,  addressing  the  stranger,  "and  I  trust 
you.  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?" 

The  priest's  holy  confidence,  the  nobleness  expressed  in 
every  line  in  his  face,  would  have  disarmed  a  murderer.  For 
a  moment  the  mysterious  stranger,  who  had  brought  an 
element  of  excitement  into  lives  of  misery  and  resignation, 
gazed  at  the  little  group;  then  he  turned  to  the  priest  and 
said,  as  if  making  a  confidence,  "Father,  I  came  to  beg  you 
to  celebrate  a  mass  for  the  repose  of  the  soul  of — of — of  an 
august  personage  whose  body  will  never  rest  in  consecrated 
earth " 

Involuntarily  the  abbe  shivered.  As  yet,  neither  of  the 
Sisters  understood  of  whom  the  stranger  was  speaking;  they 
sat  with  their  heads  stretched  out  and  faces  turned  towards 
the  speaker,  curiosity  in  their  whole  attitude.  The  priest, 


382  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

meanwhile,  was  scrutinizing  the  stranger;  there  was  no  mis- 
taking the  anxiety  in  the  man's  face,  the  ardent  entreaty  in 
his  eyes. 

"Very  well,"  returned  the  abbe.  "Come  back  at  midnight. 
I  shall  be  ready  to  celebrate  the  only  funeral  service  that  it 
is  in  our  power  to  offer  in  expiation  of  the  crime  of  which 
you  speak." 

A  quiver  ran  through  the  stranger,  but  a  sweet  yet  sober 
satisfaction  seemed  to  prevail  over  a  hidden  anguish.  He 
took  his  leave  respectfully,  and  the  three  generous  souls  felt 
his  unspoken  gratitude. 

Two  hours  later,  he  came  back  and  tapped  at  the  garret 
door.  Mademoiselle  de  Beauseant  showed  the  way  into  the 
second  room  of  their  humble  lodging.  Everything  had  been 
made  ready.  The  Sisters  had  moved  the  old  chest  of  drawers 
between  the  two  chimneys,  and  covered  its  quaint  outlines 
over  with  a  splendid  altar  cloth  of  green  watered  silk. 

The  bare  walls  looked  all  the  barer,  because  the  one  thing 
that  hung  there  was  the  great  ivory  and  ebony  crucifix,  which 
of  necessity  attracted  the  eyes.  Four  slender  little  altar 
candles,  which  the  Sisters  had  contrived  to  fasten  into  their 
places  with  sealing-wax,  gave  a  faint,  pale  light,  almost  ab- 
sorbed by  the  walls ;  the  rest  of  the  room  lay  well-nigh  in  the 
dark..  But  the  dim  brightness,  concentrated  upon  the 
holy  things,  looked  like  a  ray  from  Heaven  shining  down  upon 
the  unadorned  shrine.  The  floor  was  reeking  with  damp. 
An  icy  wind  swept  in  through  the  chinks  here  and  there,  in 
a  roof  that  rose  sharply  on  either  side,  after  the  fashion  of 
attic  roofs.  Nothing  could  be  less  imposing ;  yet  perhaps,  too, 
nothing  could  be  more  solemn  than  this  mournful  ceremony. 
A  silence  so  deep  that  they  could  have  heard  the  faintest 
sound  of  a  voice  on  the  Route  d'Allemagne,  invested  the  night- 
piece  with  a  kind  of  sombre  majesty;  while  the  grandeur  of 
the  service — all  the  grander  for  the  strong  contrast  with  the 
poor  surroundings — produced  a  feeling  of  reverent  awe. 

The  Sisters  kneeling  on  each  side  the  altar,  regardless 
of  the  deadly  chill  from  the  wej;  brick  floor,  were  engaged 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  383 

in  prayer,  while  the  priest,  arrayed  in  pontifical  vestments, 
brought  out  a  golden  chalice  set  with  gems;  doubtless  one  of 
the  sacred  vessels  saved  from  the  pillage  of  the  Abbaye  de 
Chelles.  Beside  a  ciborium,  the  gift  of  royal  munificence, 
the  wine  and  water  for  the  holy  sacrifice  of  the  mass  stood 
ready  in  two  glasses  such  as  could  scarcely  be  found  in  the 
meanest  tavern.  For  want  of  a  missal,  the  priest  had  laid 
his  breviary  on  the  altar,  and  a  common  earthenware  plate 
was  set  for  the  washing  of  hands  that  were  pure  and  unde- 
filed  with  blood.  It  was  all  so  infinitely  great,  yet  so  little, 
poverty-stricken  yet  noble,  a  mingling  of  sacred  and  profane. 

The  stranger  came  forward  reverently  to  kneel  between 
the  two  nuns.  But  the  priest  had  tied  crape  round  the  chalice 
of  the  crucifix,  having  no  other  way  of  marking  the  mass  as 
a  funeral  service;  it  was  as  if  God  himself  had  been  in 
mourning.  The  man  suddenly  noticed  this,  and  the  sight 
appeared  to  call  up  some  overwhelming  memory,  for  great 
drops  of  sweat  stood  out  on  his  broad  forehead. 

Then  the  four  silent  actors  in  the  scene  looked  mysteriously 
at  one  another;  and  their  souls  in  emulation  seemed  to  stir 
and  communicate  the  thoughts  within  them  until  all  were 
melted  into  one  feeling  of  awe  and  pity.  It  seemed  to  them 
that  the  royal  martyr  whose  remains  had  been  consumed  with 
quicklime,  had  been  called  up  by  their  yearning  and  now 
stood,  a  shadow  in  their  midst,  in  all  the  majesty  of  a  king. 
They  were  celebrating  an  anniversary  service  for  the  dead 
whose  body  lay  elsewhere.  Under  the  disjointed  laths  and 
tiles,  four  Christians  were  holding  a  funeral  service  without 
a  coffin,  and  putting  up  prayers  to  God  for  the  soul  of  a  King 
of  France.  Xo  devotion  could  be  purer  than  this.  It  was  a 
wonderful  act  of  faith  achieved  without  an  afterthought. 
Surely  in  the  sight  of  God  it  was  like  the  cup  of  cold  water 
which  counterbalances  the  loftiest  virtues.  The  prayers  put 
up  by  two  feeble  nuns  and  a  priest  represented  the  whole 
Monarchy,  and  possibly  at  the  same  time,  the  Kevolution 
found  expression  in  the  stranger,  for  the  remorse  in  his  face 
was  so  great  that  it  was  impossible  not  to  think  that  he  was 
fulfilling  the  vows  of  a  boundless  repentance. 


384  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

When  the  priest  came  to  the  Latin  words,  Introibo  ad  altar e 
Dei,  a  sudden  divine  inspiration  flashed  upon  him ;  he  looked 
at  the  three  kneeling  figures,  the  representatives  of  Christian 
France,  and  said  instead,  as  though  to  blot  out  the  poverty 
of  the  garret,  "We  are  about  to  enter  the  Sanctuary  of  God !" 

These  words,  uttered  with  thrilling  earnestness,  struck 
reverent  awe  into  the  nuns  and  the  stranger.  Under  the 
vaulted  roof  of  St.  Peter's  at  Eome,  God  would  not  have 
revealed  Himself  in  greater  majesty  than  here  for  the  eyes 
of  the  Christians  in  that  poor  refuge;  so  true  is  it  that  all 
intermediaries  between  God  and  the  soul  of  man  are  super- 
fluous, and  all  the  grandeur  of  God  proceeds  from  Himself 
alone. 

The  stranger's  fervor  was  sincere.  One  emotion  blended 
the  prayers  of  the  four  servants  of  God  and  the  King  in 
a  single  supplication.  The  holy  words  rang  like  the  music 
of  heaven  through  the  silence.  At  one  moment,  tears  gath- 
ered in  the  stranger's  eyes.  This  was  during  the  Pater 
Nosier;  for  the  priest  added  a  petition  in  Latin,  and  his 
audience  doubtless  understood  him  when  he  said :  "Et  remitte 
scelus  regicidis  sicu-t  Ludovicus  eis  remisit  semetipse" — for- 
give the  regicides  as  Louis  himself  forgave  them. 

The  Sisters  saw  two  great  tears  trace  a  channel  down 
the  stranger's  manly  cheeks  and  fall  to  the  floor.  Then  the 
office  for  the  dead  was  recited ;  the  Domine  salvum  fac  regem 
chanted  in  an  undertone  that  went  to  the  hearts  of  the  faith- 
ful Eoyalists,  for  they  thought  how  the  child-King  for  whom 
they  were  praying  was  even  then  a  captive  in  the  hands  of 
his  enemies;  and  a  shudder  ran  through  the  stranger,  as  he 
thought  that  a  new  crime  might  be  committed,  and  that  he 
could  not  choose  but  take  his  part  in  it. 

The  service  came  to  an  end.  The  priest  made  a  sign  to 
the  Sisters,  and  they  withdrew.  As  soon  as  he  was  left  alone 
with  the  stranger,  he  went  toward  him  with  a  grave,  gentle 
face,  and  said  in  fatherly  tones : 

"My  son,  if  your  hands  are  stained  with  the  blood  of  the 
royal  martyr,  confide  in  me.  There  is  no  sin  that  may  not 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  385 

be  blotted  out  in  the  sight  of  God  by  penitence  as  sincere 
and  touching  as  yours  appears  to  be." 

At  the  first  words,  the  man  started  with  terror,  in  spite 
of  himself.  Then  he  recovered  composure,  and  looked  quietly 
at  the  astonished  priest. 

"Father,"  he  said,  and  the  other  could  not  miss  the  tremor 
in  his  voice,  "no  one  is  more  guiltless  than  I  of  the  blood 
shed " 

"I  am  bound  to  believe  you,"  said  the  priest.  He  paused 
a  moment,  and  again  he  scrutinized  his  penitent.  But,  -per- 
sisting in  the  idea  that  the  man  before  him  was  one  of  the 
members  of  the  Convention,  one  of  the  timorous  voters  who 
betrayed  an  inviolable  and  anointed  head  to  save  their  own, 
he  began  again  gravely : 

"Kemember,  my  son,  that  it  is  not  enough  to  have  taken 
no  active  part  in  the  great  crime;  that  fact  does  not  absolve 
you.  The  men  who  might  have  defended  the  King  and  left 
their  swords  in  their  scabbards,  will  have  a  very  heavy  ac- 
count to  render  to  the  King  of  Heaven — Ah !  yes,"  he  added, 
with  an  eloquent  shake  of  the  head,  "heavy  indeed! — for  by 
doing  nothing  they  became  accomplices  in  the  awful  wicked- 
ness  " 

"But  do  you  think  that  an  indirect  participation  will  be 
punished?"  the  stranger  asked  with  a  bewildered,  look. 
"There  is  the  private  soldier  commanded  to  fall  into  line — 
is  he  actually  responsible  ?" 

The  priest  hesitated.  The  stranger  was  glad;  he  had  put 
the  Royalist  precisian  in  a  dilemma,  between  the  dogma  of 
passive  obedience  on  the  one  hand  (for  the  upholders  of  the 
Monarchy  maintained  that  obedience  was  the  first  principle 
of  military  law),  and  the  equally  important  dogma  which 
turns  respect  for  the  person  of  a  King  into  a  matter  of 
religion.  In  the  priest's  indecision  he  was  eager  to  see  a 
favorable  solution  of  the  doubts  which  seemed  to  torment 
him.  To  prevent  too  prolonged  reflection  on  the  part  of  the 
reverend  Jansenist,  he  added: 

"I  should  blush  to  offer  remuneration  of  any  kind  for  the 


386  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

funeral  service  which  you  have  just  performed  for  the  re- 
pose of  the  King's  soul  and  the  relief  of  my  conscience. 
The  only  possible  return  for  something  of  inestimable  value 
is  an  offering  likewise  beyond  price.  Will  you  deign,  mon- 
sieur, to  take  my  gift  of  a  holy  relic?  A  day  will  perhaps 
come  when  you  will  understand  its  value." 

As  he  spoke  the  stranger  held  out  a  box ;  it  was  very  small 
and  exceedingly  light.  The  priest  took  it  mechanically,  as 
it  were,  so  astonished  was  he  by  the  man's  solemn  words,  the 
tones  of  his  voice,  and  the  reverence  with  which  he  held  out 
the  gift. 

The  two  men  went  back  together  into  the  first  room.  The 
Sisters  were  waiting  for  them.  . 

"This  house  that  you  are  living  in  belongs  to  Mucius 
Scaevola,  the  plasterer  on  the  first  floor,"  he  said.  "He  is 
well  known  in  the  Section  for  his  patriotism,  but  in  reality 
he  is  an  adherent  of  the  Bourbons.  He  used  to  be  a  hunts- 
man in  the  service  of  his  Highness  the  Prince  de  Conti,  and 
he  owes  everything  to  him.  So  long  as  you  stay  in  the  house, 
you  are  safer  here  than  anywhere  else  in  France.  Do  not  go 
out.  Pious  souls  will  minister  to  your  necessities,  and  you 
can  wait  in  safety,  for  better  times.  Next  year,  on  the  21st 
of  January," — he  could  not  hide  an  involuntary  shudder  as 
he  spoke, — "next  year,  if  you  are  still  in  this  dreary  refuge, 
I  will  come  back  again  to  celebrate  the  expiatory  mass  with 
you " 

He  broke  off,  bowed  to  the  three,  who  answered  not  a  word, 
gave  a  last  look  at  the  garret  with  its  signs  of  poverty,  and 
vanished. 

Such  an  adventure  possessed  all  the  interest  of  a  romance 
in  the  lives  of  the  innocent  nuns.  So,  as  soon  as  the  venerable 
abbe  told  them  the  story  of  the  mysterious  gift,  it  was  placed 
upon  the  table,  and  by  the  feeble  light  of  the  tallow  dip  an 
indescribable  curiosity  appeared  in  the  three  anxious  faces. 
Mademoiselle  de  Langeais  opened  the  box,  and  found  a  very 
fine  lawn  handkerchief,  soiled  with  sweat;  darker  stains  ap- 
peared as  they  unfolded  it. 


AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR  381 

"That  is  blood !"  exclaimed  the  priest. 

"It  is  marked  with  a  royal  crown !"  cried  Sister  Agathe. 

The  women,  aghast,  allowed  the  precious  relic  to  fall. 
For  their  simple  souls  the  mystery  that  hung  about  the 
stranger  grew  inexplicable;  as  for  the  priest,  from  that  day 
forth  he  did  not  even  try  to  understand  it. 

Before  very  long  the  prisoners  knew  that,  in  spite  of  the 
Terror,  some  powerful  hand  was  extended  over  them.  It 
began  when  they  received  firewood  and  provisions;  and  next 
the  Sisters  knew  that  a  woman  had  lent  counsel  to  their 
protector,  for  linen  was  sent  to  them,  and  clothes  in  which 
they  could  leave  the  house  without  causing  remark  upon  the 
aristocrat's  dress  that  they  had  been  forced  to  wear.  After 
awhile  Mucius  Scgevola  gave  them  two  civic  cards;  and  often 
and  often  tidings  necessary  for  the  priest's  safety  came  to 
them  in  roundabout  ways.  Warnings  and  advice  reached 
them  so  opportunely  that  they  could  only  have  been  sent  by 
some  person  in  the  possession  of  state  secrets.  And,  at  a 
time  when  famine  threatened  Paris,  invisible  hands  brought 
rations  of  "white  bread"  for  the  proscribed  women  in  the 
wretched  garret.  Still  they  fancied  that  Citizen  Mucius 
Scaevola  was  only  the  mysterious  instrument  of  a  kindness 
always  ingenious,  and  no  less  intelligent. 

The  noble  ladies  in  the  garret  could  no  longer  doubt  that 
their  protector  was  the  stranger  of  the  expiatory  mass  on 
the  night  of  the  22d  of  January,  1793;  and  a  kind  of  cult 
of  him  sprung  up  among  them.  Their  one  hope  was  in  him ; 
they  lived  through  him.  They  added  special  petitions  for 
him  to  their  prayers ;  night  and  morning  the  pious  souls 
prayed  for  his  happiness,  his  prosperity,  his  safety;  entreat- 
ing God  to  remove  all  snares  far  from  his  path,  to  deliver 
him  from  his  enemies,  to  grant  him  a  long  and  peaceful  life. 
And  with  this  daily  renewed  gratitude,  as  it  may  be  called, 
there  blended  a  feeling  of  curiosity  which  grew  more  lively 
day  by  day.  They  talked  over  the  circumstances  of  his  first 
sudden  appearance,  their  conjectures  were  endless;  the 


388  AN  EPISODE  UNDER  THE  TERROR 

stranger  had  conferred  one  more  benefit  upon  them  by  divert- 
ing their  minds.  Again,  and  again,  they  said,  when  he  next 
came  to  see  them  as  he  promised,  to  celebrate  the  sad  anni- 
versary of  the  death  of  Louis  XVI.,  he  should  not  escape  their 
friendship. 

The  night  so  impatiently  awaited  came  at  last.  At  mid- 
night the  old  wooden  staircase  echoed  with  the  stranger's 
heavy  footsteps.  They  had  made  the  best  of  their  room  for 
his  coming ;  the  altar  was  ready,  and  this  time  the  door  stood 
open,  and  the  two  Sisters  were  out  at  the  stairhead,  eager  to 
light  the  way.  Mademoiselle  de  Langeais  even  came  down  a 
few  steps,  to  meet  their  benefactor  the  sooner. 

"Come,"  she  said,  with  a  quaver  in  the  affectionate  tones, 
"come  in;  we  are  expecting  you." 

He  raised  his  face,  gave  her  a  dark  look,  and  made  no 
answer.  The  Sister  felt  as  if  an  icy  mantle  had  fallen  over 
her,  and  said  no  more.  At  the  sight  of  him,  the  glow  of 
gratitude  and  curiosity  died  away  in  their  hearts.  Perhaps 
he  was  not  so  cold,  not  so  taciturn,  not  so  stern  as  he  seemed 
to  them,  for  in  their  highly  wrought  mood  they  were  ready 
to  pour  out  their  feeling  of  friendship.  But  the  three  poor 
prisoners  understood  that  he  wished  to  be  a  stranger  to  them ; 
and  submitted.  The  priest  fancied  that  he  saw  a  smile  'on 
the  man's  lips  as  he  saw  their  preparations  for  his  visit,  but 
it  was  at  once  repressed.  He  heard  mass,  said  his  prayer, 
and  then  disappeared,  declining,  with  a  few  polite  words, 
Mademoiselle  de  Langeais'  invitation  to  partake  of  the  little 
collation  made  ready  for  him. 

After  the  9th  Thermidor,  the  Sisters  and  the  Abbe  de 
Marolles  could  go  about  Paris  without  the  least  danger. 
The  first  time  that  the  abbe  went  out  he  walked  to  a  per- 
fumer's shop  at  the  sign  of  The  Queen  of  Roses,  kept  by  the 
Citizen  Eagon  and  his  wife,  court  perfumers.  The  Eagons 
had  been  faithful  adherents  of  the  Eovalist  cause;  it  was 
through  their  means  that  the  Vendean  leaders  kept  up  a 
correspondence  with  the  Princes  and  the  Eoyalist  Committee 
in  Paris.  The  abbe,  in  the  ordinary  dress  of  the  time,  was 


389 

standing  on  the  threshold  of  the  shop — which  stood  between 
Saint  Eoch  and  the  Rue  des  Frondeurs — when  he  saw  that 
the  Rue  Saint  Honore  was  filled  with  a  crowd  and  he  could 
not  go  out. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  asked  Madame  Ragon. 

"Nothing/'  she  said;  "it  is  only  the  tumbril  cart  and  the 
executioner  going  to  the  Place  Louis  XV.  Ah !  we  used  to  see 
it  often  enough  last  year;  but  to-day,  four  days  after  the 
anniversary  of  the  twenty-first  of  January,  one  does  not  feel 
sorry  to  see  the  ghastly  procession." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  abbe.  "That  is  not  said  like  a 
Christian." 

"Eh !  but  it  is  the  execution  of  Robespierre's  accom- 
plices. They  defended  themselves  as  long  as  they  could,  but 
now  it  is  their  turn  to  go  where  they  sent  so  many  innocent 
people." 

The  crowd  poured  by  like  a  flood.  The  abbe,  yielding  to 
an  impulse  of  curiosity,  looked  up  above  the  heads,  and  there 
in  the  tumbril  stood  the  man  who  had  heard  mass  in  the 
garret  three  days  ago. 

"Who  is  it  ?"  he  asked ;  "who  is  the  man  with " 

"That  is  the  headsman,"  answered  M.  Ragon,  calling  the 
executioner — the  executeur  des  hautes  ceuvres — by  the  name 
he  had  borne  under  the  Monarchy. 

"Oh!  my  dear,  my  dear!  M.  1'Abbe  is  dying!"  cried  out 
old  Madame  Ragon.  She  caught  up  a  flask  of  vinegar,  and 
tried  to  restore  the  old  priest  to  consciousness. 

"He  must  have  given  me  the  handkerchief  that  the  King 
used  to  wipe  his  brow  on  the  way  to  his  martyrdom,"  mur- 
mured he.  "...  Poor  man !  .  .  .  There  was  a  heart  in  the 
steel  blade,  when  none  was  found  in  all  France.  .  .  ." 

The  perfumers  thought  that  the  poor  abbe  was  raving. 

PAKIS,  January  1831. 


THE  COMEDIE  HUMAINE 

INDEX 

THE  COMEDIE  HUMAINE  as  arranged  by  Balzac  is  a  curious  ex- 
ample of  subdivision  and  inter-subdivision.  It  is  composed  of 
some  eighty-eight  separate  stories  which,  however,  are  connected 
— nearly  all  of  them — with  the  general  scheme  of  the  Com6die. 
This  scheme  embraces  six  Scenes  and  two  Studies,  as  follows: 

Scenes  from  Private  Life. 

Scenes  from  Provincial  Life. 

Scenes  from  Parisian  Life. 

Scenes  from  Political  Life. 

Scenes  from  Military  Life. 

Scenes  from  Country  Life. 

Philosophical  Studies. 

Analytical  Studies. 

The  above  Scenes  or  Studies,  in  turn,  are  divided  into  groups  in- 
cluding stories  which  the  author  desired  to  connect  as  intimately 
as  possible.  The  stories  themselves  are  liable  to  subdivision,  be- 
ing made  up  possibly  of  two  or  more  narratives  strung  together 
on  the  slightest  thread  under  some  general  title.  As  an  example 
of  this  may  be  cited  The  Thirteen,  a  book  composed  of  three  dis- 
tinct tales — Ferragus,  The  Duchesse  de  Langeais,  and  The  Girl 
with  the  Golden  Eyes. 

Granted  that  a  story  were  entirely  coherent  in  plot,  it  was  not 
always  or  often  suffered  to  lie  undisturbed  by  its  restless  author. 
It  was  wrought  upon,  both  internally  and  externally.  Internally 
it  met  with  the  frequent  decapitation  or  addition  of  chapter 
heads.  Perchance  all  the  chapters  might  be  merged  in  one.  Per- 
chance some  incident  lightly  dwelt  upon  might  reveal  another  sit- 

(391) 


392  COMEDIE    HUMAINE 

uation  for  the  same  actors;  a  budding  process  would  begin,  and 
thus  a  new  story  of  the  Com6die  would  be  born.  Externally  a 
story  might  be  changed  in  title,  in  grouping,  or  even  in  its  posi- 
tion in  the  ComSdie;  it  might  lose  its  identity  entirely  (in  a  re- 
verse process  to  one  described  above)  by  being  incorporated  into 
another  story,  in  the  form  of  a  chapter.  All  these  operations 
might  and  did  happen  in  the  evolution  of  the  Comgdie,  which  fact 
explains  the  difficulty  oftentimes  experienced  in  locating  tales  by 
the  titles  given  in  the  earlier  French  editions;  also  for  the  vary- 
ing number  of  stories  accredited  to  the  Com§die. 

The  present  edition  does  not  give  the  original  grouping  in  abso- 
lute order;  this  was  not  possible  in  a  given  number  of  volumes  of 
uniform  size.  The  original  grouping  has  never  been  considered 
vital — the  author  himself  was  constantly  changing  it,  up  to  the 
very  day  of  his  death.  Nevertheless,  the  arrangement  as  finally 
left  by  him  has  been  maintained  in  so  far  as  mechanical  con- 
venience would  permit.  And  for  those  who  desire  to  follow  the 
Balzacian  scheme,  or  to  consider  a  story  in  relation  to  its  group- 
mates  and  the  general  plan,  these  Indices  have  been  prepared, 
showing:  (1)  Alphabetical  Index  of  stories  and  their  position 
in  the  accompanying  edition;  (2)  Titles  of  Volumes;  (3)  Orig- 
inal Balzac  Scheme. — J.  WALKEB  MCSPADDEX,  Publisher's  Editor. 


ALPHABETICAL   INDEX 

THE   STORIES   CONSTITUTING   THE  COMEDIE  HUMAINE, 
AND  THEIR  POSITION  IN  THE  ACCOM- 
PANYING EDITION 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Abb6  Birotteau,  The   (See,  Vicar  of  Tours) 4 

About    Catherine    de'    Medici 2 

Absolute,  The  Quest  of  the 1 

Albert    Savarus    10 

Another  Study  of  Woman 3 

Antiquities,  The  Collection  of  (See,  Jealousies  of  a  Country 

Town)    7 

Arcis,  The  Member  for  16 

Atheist's    Mass,    The    6 

At  the  Sign  of  the  Cat  and  Racket 4 

Author  and  His  Works,  The 1 

Author's  Introduction 1 

Avatar,  Vautrin's  Last  (See,  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's  Life)  12 

Bachelor's  Establishment,  A 4 

Ball  at  Sceaux,  The 4 

Balzac,  Honorg  de  1 

Balzac's  Introduction  to  Comgdie  Humaine 1 

Beatrix    7 

Betty,  Cousin    11 

Birotteau,  The  Abb6  (See,  Vicar  of  Tours)   4 

Birotteau,  The  Rise  and  Fall  of  Cesar 14 

Bohemia,  A  Prince  of 16 

Breteche,  La  Grande 3 

Brides,    Letters    of    Two    5 

Business,  A  Man  of   16 

(393) 


394  COMEDIE    HUMAINE 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Calvinist  Martyr,  The  (See,  About  Catherine  de'  Medici) 2 

Cane,    Facino    16 

Cat  and  Racket,  At  the  Sign  of  the 4 

Catherine    de'   Medici,    About 2 

Celibates,    The    4 

Cesar  Birotteau,  The  Rise  and  Fall  of 14 

Chouans,  The 15 

Christ  in  Flanders   1 

Classes,  The  Middle   14 

Clerks,  The  Government 12 

Collection  of  Antiquities,  The  (See,  Jealousies  of  a  Country 

Town)    7 

Colonel  Chabert    9 

Commission  in  Lunacy,  The 7 

Conscript,   The 1 

Cornelius,    Maltre    2 

Country  Doctor,  The 9 

Country  Parson    The 10 

Country  Town,  The  Jealousies  of  a 7 

Country,  Parisians  in  the  13 

Courtesan's  Life,  Scenes  from  a 12 

Cousin    Betty    11 

Cousin  Pons  11 

Daughter  of  Eve 5 

Department,  The  Muse  of  the 15 

Desert,  A  Passion  in  the 15 

Deserted    Woman,    The 5 

Distinguished  Provincial  at  Paris,  A    (Third   Part  of  "Lost 

Illusions ")     8 

Doctor,   The  Country 9 

Domestic  Peace    3 

Doni,   Massimilla    3 


INDEX  395 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Dreams,  The  Two  (See,  About  Catherine  de'  Medici) 2 

Duchesse  de  Langeais,  The  (See,  The  Thirteen) 13 

Elixir  of  Life,  The 2 

El  Verdugo    1 

End  of  Evil  Ways,  The  (See,  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's  Life)  12 

Episode  Under  the  Terror,  An 16 

Establishment,   A    Bachelor's    4 

Esther  Happy   (See,  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's  Life) 12 

Eugenie  Grandet 3 

Eve,  A  Daughter  of 5 

Eve  and   David    (See,   Lost   Illusions) 8 

Exiles,   The    2 

Eyes,  The  Girl  With  the  Golden  (See,  The  Thirteen) 13 

Facino  Cane    16 

Fall  of  Cesar  Birotteau,  The  Rise  and 14 

Farewell 1 

Father  Goriot 13 

Ferragus  ( See,  The  Thirteen)    13 

Firmiani,  Madame  4 

Firm  of  Nucingen,  The 9 

Flanders,  Christ  in 1 

Gambara   2 

Gaudissart  II. 16 

Gaudissart  the  Great  (First  Part  of  "Parisians  in  the  Coun- 
try")   13 

Girl  With  the  Golden  Eyes,  The  (See,  The  Thirteen) 13 

Gobseck  5 

Gondreville  Mystery,  The 15 

Goriot,    Father    13 

Government  Clerks,  The 12 


396  COMEDIE    HUMAINE 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Grande  Brete"che,  La   3 

Grandet,  Eugenie  3 

Grassou,  Pierre 5 

Grenadiere,  La  5 

Hated  Son,  The   6 

History,  The  Seamy  Side  of 16 

Home,  A  Second 6 

Honorine     4 

Humorists,  The  Unconscious 13 

Illusions,  Lost 8 

Imaginary  Mistress,  The  3 

Inn,  The  Red 3 

Introduction,  Author's   1 

Introduction,    General    1 

Jealousies  of  a  Country  Town,  The 7 

La  Grande  Breteche  (Sequel  to  "Another  Study  of  Woman")  3 

La  Grenadiere 5 

Langeais,  The  Duchesse  de  (See,  The  Thirteen)    13 

Letters  of  Two  Brides  5 

Life,  A   Start   in 6 

Life,  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's 12 

Life,  The  Elixir  of 2 

Lily  of  the  Valley,  The 9 

Lost  Illusions   8 

Louis  Lambert    2 

Lunacy,  The  Commission  in 7 

Madame  Firmiani 4 

Magic  Skin,  The 1 

Maid,  The  Old  (See,  Jealousies  of  a  Country  Town) 7 


INDEX  397 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Maitre  Cornelius   2 

Man  of  Business,  A 16 

Maranas,  The   1 

Marcas,  Z 16 

Marriage   Settlement,   A    6 

Martyr,  The  Calvinist  (See,  About  Catherine  de'  Medici) 2 

Massimilla  Doni  3 

Mass,  The  Atheist's 6 

Masterpiece,  The  Unknown   1 

Medici,  About  Catherine  de'    2 

Melmoth  Reconciled 1 

Member  for  Arcis,  The   16 

Message,  The 5 

Middle  Classes,  The   14 

Mirouet,  Ursule    3 

Mistress,  The  Imaginary  3 

Modeste  Mignon   6 

Muse  of  the  Department,  The    (Second  Part  of  "Parisians 

in  the  Country  " )    15 

Mystery,  The  Gondreville   15 

Nucingen,  The  Firm  of 9 

Old  Maid,  The  (See,  Jealousies  of  a  Country  Town) 7 

Parson,  The  Country 10 

Parisians    in   the   Country 13 

Passion  in  the  Desert,  A  15 

Peace,  Domestic   3 

Peasantry,  The  10 

Pierre  Grassou    5 

Pierrette                4 


398  COMEDIE    HUMAINE 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Poets,  Two  ( See,  Lost  Illusions)   8 

Pons,  Cousin  11 

Poor  Relations   11 

Prince  of  Bohemia,  A   16 

Princess,  The  Secrets  of  a 14 

Provincial  at  Paris,  A  Distinguished 8 

Purse,  The  4 

Quest  of  the  Absolute,  The 1 

Rabouilleuse,  La  (See,  "A  Bachelor's  Establishment") 4 

Reconciled,   Melmoth    1 

Red  Inn,  The   3 

Relations,    Poor     11 

Rise  and  Fall  of  C6sar  Birotteau,  The 14 

Ruggieri's  Secret,  The  (See,  About  Catherine  de'  Medici) 2 

Sarrasine    16 

Savarus,   Albert    10 

Seamy  Side  of  History,  The 16 

Seaside  Tragedy,  A  3 

Sceaux,  The  Ball  at 4 

Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's  Life 12 

Second  Home,  A   6 

Secrets  of  a  Princess,  The  I4 

Secret,  The  Ruggieri's  (See,  About  Catherine  de'  Medici) 2 

Seraphita    2 

Settlement,  A  Marriage  6 

Sign  of  the  Cat  and  Racket,  At  the 4 

Skin,  The  Magic 1 

Son,  The  Hated   6 

Start  in  Life,  A 6 


INDEX  399 

TITLE  VOLUME 

Study  of  Woman,  A  .......................................  3 

Study  of  Woman,  Another  .................................  3 

Terror,  An  Episode  Under  the  .............................  16 

Thirteen,  The    ............................................  13 

Thirty,  A  Woman  of  .......................................  5 

Tours,  The  Vicar  of  ................................  .......  4 

Town,  The  Jealousies  of  a  Country  .........................  7 

Tragedy,  A  Seaside  .......................................  3 

Two  Brides,  Letters  of  ....................................  5 

Two  Dreams,  The  (See,  About  Catherine  de'  Medici)  ........  2 

Two  Poets   (See,  Lost  Illus:ons)  ...........................  8 

Unconscious  Humorists,   The    .............................  13 

Under  the  Terror,  An  Episode  .............................  16 

Unknown  Masterpieces,   The  ...............................  1 

Ursule  Mirouet   ...........................................  3 

Valley,  The  Lily  of  the  ....................................  9 

Vautrin's  Last  Avatar  (See,  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's  Life)  12 

Vendetta,    The    ...........................................  9 

Verdugo,  El   ..............................................  1 

Vicar    of    Tours,    The  .....................................  4 

What  Love  Costs  an  Old  Man  (See,  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's 

Life)    ................................................  12 

Woman,   A   Study   of  ......................................  3 

Woman,  Another  Study  of  .................................  3 

Woman  of  Thirty,  A  ......................................  5 

Woman,  The  Deserted    ....................................  5 

Works,  The  Author  and  His  ................................  1 


Z.  Marcas 


TITLES  OF  VOLUMES 


1.  I.  THE  MAGIC   SKIN. 

II.  THE  QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE. 

2.  I.  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI. 
II.  SEBAPHITA. 

3.  I.  EUGENIE  GRANDET. 
II.  UBSULE  MIROUET. 

4.  I.  AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CAT  AND  RACKET. 
II.  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

5.  I.  A  DAUGHTER  OF  EVE. 
II.  A  WOMAN  OF  THIRTY. 

6.  I.  A  MARRIAGE  SETTLEMENT. 

II.  MODESTE   MlGNON. 

7.  I.  BEATRIX. 

II.  THE  JEALOUSIES  OF  A  COUNTRY  TOWN. 

8.  I.  LOST  ILLUSIONS. 

II.  A  DISTINGUISHED  PROVINCIAL  AT  PABIS. 

9.  I.  THE  LILY  OF  THE  VALLEY. 
II.  THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

10.  I.  THE  COUNTRY  PARSON. 
II.  THE  PEASANTRY. 

11.  I.  COUSIN  BETTY, 
II.  COUSIN  PONS. 

(401) 


402  COMEDIE    HUMAINE 

12.  I.  SCENES  FROM  A  COURTESAN'S  LIFE.     I. 
II.  SCENES  FROM  A  COURTESAN'S  LIFE.     II. 

13.  I.  THE  THIRTEEN. 
II.  FATHER  GORIOT. 

14.  I.  CESAR  BIROTTEAU. 

II.  THE  MIDDLE  CLASSES. 

15.  I.  THE  CHOUANS. 

II.  THE  GONDREVILLE  MYSTERY. 

16.  I.  THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS. 

II.  THE   SEAMY   SIDE  OF  HISTORY. 

17.  I.  DRAMAS. 
II.  DRAMAS. 

18.  I.  PHYSIOLOGY  OF  MARRIAGE. 

II.  REPERTORY  OF  THE  COMEDIE  HUMAHTE, 


THE   BALZAC    PLAN 

OF   THE  COMEDIE   HUMAINE 

The  form  in  which  the  Comedie  Humaine  was  left  by  its  author, 
with  the  exceptions  of  Le  Depute  dArcis  (incomplete)  and  Les 
Petits  Bourgeois,  both  of  which  were  added,  some  years  later,  by 
the  Edition  Definitive. 

[On  the  right  hand  side  is  given  the  original  French  titles;  on 
the  left,  their  English  equivalents.  Literal  translations  have 
been  followed,  excepting  a  few  instances  where  preference  is 
shown  for  a  clearer  or  more  comprehensive  English  title.] 

COMEDIE   HUMAINE 

SCENES   FROM   PRIVATE   LIFE 

(Scenes  de  la  Vie  Privce) 

BOOK    1. 

AT   THE   SIGN   OF   THE   CAT   AND 

RACKET,  La  Maison  du  Chat-qui-Pelote. 

The  Ball  at  Sgeaux,  Le  Bal  de  Sqeaux. 

The  Purse,  La  Bourse. 

The  Vendetta,  La  Vendetta. 

Madame    Firmiani,  Mme.  Firmiani. 

A  Second  Home,  Une  Double  Famille. 

BOOK    2. 

DOMESTIC  PEACE,  La  Paix  du  Menage 

The  Imaginary  Mistress,  La  Fausse  Maitresse. 

A  Study  of  Woman,  Etude  de  Femme. 

(403) 


404 


COMEDIE    HUMAINE 


Another  Study  of  Woman, 
La  Grande  Bret^che, 
Albert  Savarus, 


Autre  Etude  de  Femme. 
La  Grande  Breteche. 
Albert  Savarus. 


LETTERS  OF  Two  BRIDES, 
A  Daughter  of  Eve, 


BOOK    3. 

Mcmoires    de   Deaux   Jeunes. 

Marices. 
Une  Fille  d'Eve. 


A  WOMAN  OF  THIRTY, 
The  Deserted  Woman, 
La  Grenadiere, 
The  Message, 
Gobseck, 


BOOK    4. 

La  Femme  de  Trente  Ans. 
La  Femme  Abandonee. 
La  Grenadiere. 
Le  Message. 
Gobseck. 


BOOK    5. 

A  MARRIAGE  SETTLEMENT,  Le  Contrat  de  Mariage. 

A  Start  in  Life,  Un  Debut  dans  la  Vie. 


MODESTE  MlGNON, 


BOOK    6. 

Modeste  Mignon. 


BEATRIX. 


BOOK    7. 

Beatrix. 


HONORINE, 

Colonel  Chabert, 

The  Atheist's  Mass, 

The  Commission  In  Lunacy, 

Pierre  Grassou, 


BOOK    8. 

Honorine. 

Le  Colonel  Chabert. 
La  Messe  de  TAthee. 
L 'Inter diction. 
Pierre  Grassou. 


INDEX  405 

SCENES    FROM    PROVINCIAL    LIFE 
(Scenes  de  la  Vie  Province) 

BOOK    9. 
URSULE  MIROUET,  Ursule  Mirouet. 

BOOK    10. 
EUGENIE  GBANDET,  Eugenie  Grandet. 

BOOK  11. 

THE  CELIBATES:  Lea  Celibataires: 

1.  Pierrette,  Pierrette, 

2.  The  Vicar  of  Tours,  Le  Cure  de  Tours. 

BOOK    12. 

3.  A     BACHELOR'S     ESTABLISH- 

MENT, Un  Menage  de  Gar^on. 

BOOK  13. 

PARISIANS  IN  THE  COUNTRY:  Les  Parisiens  en  Province: 

Gaudissart   the   Great,  Ulllustre  Gaudissart. 

The  Muse  of  the  Department,  La  Muse  du  Departement. 

BOOK    14. 
THE   JEALOUSIES    OF   A   COUNTRY 

TOWN:  Les  Rivalites: 

The  Old  Maid,  La  Vieille  Fille, 

The  Collection  of  Antiquities,         Le  Cabinet  des  Antiques. 

BOOK    15. 
TIIK  LILY  or  THE  VALLEY,  Le  Lys  dans  la  Yallee. 


406 


COMEDIE    HUMAINE 


LOST  ILLUSIONS: — I., 

The  Two  Poets, 

A    Distinguished    Provincial    at 
Paris.     Part  1, 


BOOK    16. 

Illusions   Per  dues: — /., 
Les  Deux  Poetes, 
Un  Grand  Homme  de  Pro- 
vince a  Paris,  Ire  Partie. 


BOOK  17. 

LOST  ILLUSIONS: — II.,  Illusions  Perdues: — . 

A  Distinguished  Provincial  at  Un  Grand  Homme  de  Pro- 
Paris.     Part  2,  vince  2e  p., 
Eve  and  David4  Eve    et    David. 

SCENES    FROM    PARISIAN    LIFE 
(Scenes  de  la  Vie  Parisienne) 

BOOK    18. 
SCENES     FROM     A     COURTESAN'S      Splendeurs    et    Miscres    des 

LIFE  :  Courtisanes : 

Esther  Happy,  Esther  Heureuse, 

What  Love   Costs   an   Old   Man,          A  Combien  V Amour  Revient 

aux    Vieillards, 

The  End  of  Evil  Ways,  Ou     M$nent     les     Mauvais 

Chemins. 


VAUTRIN'S  LAST  AVATAR,* 

A  Prince  of  Bohemia, 

A  Man  of  Business, 

Gaudissart  II., 

The  Unconscious  Humorists, 


BOOK    19. 

Le   Derniere   Incarnation   de 

Vautrin. 

Un  Prince  de  la  BoTicme. 
Vn  Homme  d'Affaires. 
Gaudissart  II. 
Les  Comcdiens  sans  le  Savoir, 


*  The  fourth  and  final  part  of  Scenes  from  a  Courtesan's  Life. 


INDEX  407 

BOOK    20. 

THE  THIRTEEN:  Histoire  des  Treize: 

Ferragus,  Ferragus, 

The  Duchesse  de  Langeais,  La  Duchesse  de  Langeais, 

The  Girl  with  the  Golden  Eyes,     La  Fille  aux  Yeux  d'Or. 

BOOK    21. 
FATHER  GORIOT,  Le  Pere  Ooriot. 

BOOK    22. 

THE   RISE   AND   FALL  OF   CESAR      Grandeur    et    Decadence    de 
BIROTTEAU,  Cesar  Birotteau. 

BOOK  23. 

THE  FIRM  OF  NUCINGEN,  La  Maison  Nucingen. 

The  Secrets  of  a  Princess,  Les   Secrets   de   la  Princesse 

de  Cadignan. 

The  Government  Clerks,  Les  Employes. 

Sarrasine,  Sarrasine. 

Facino  Cane,  Facino  Cane. 

BOOK    24. 

POOR  RELATIONS: — I.,  Les  Parents  Pauvres:— I., 

Cousin  Betty,  La  Cousine  Bette. 

BOOK    25. 

POOR  RELATIONS:— II.,  Les  Parents  Pauvres:— II., 

Cousin  Pons,  Le  Cousin  Pons. 

BOOK*. 

The  Middle  Classes,  Les  Petits  Bourgeois. 

*  This  book  is  not  numbered,  inasmuch  as  it  was  included  after  Balznc's  death 


408  COMEDIE    HUMAINE 

SCENES    FROM    POLITICAL    LIFE 
(Scenes  de  la  Vie  Politique) 

BOOK    26. 

THE  GONDREVILLE  MYSTERY,  Une  Tenebreuse  Affaire. 

An  Episode  Under  the  Terror,          Un  Episode  sous  la  Terreur. 

BOOK    27. 
THE  SEAMY  SIDE  OF  HISTORY,  L'Envers   de    THistoire    Con- 

temporaine : 

Madame  de  la  Chanterie,  Mme.  de  la  Chanterie, 

Initiated,  L'Initic. 

Z.  Marcas,  Z.  Marcas. 

BOOK    28. 
THE  MEMBER  FOR  ARCIS,*  Le  Depute  d'Arcis. 

SCENES  FROM  MILITARY  LIFE 
(Scenes  de  la  Vie  Militaire) 

BOOK    29. 

THE  CHOUANS,  Les  Chouans. 

A  Passion  in  the  Desert,  Une  Passion  dans  le  Desert. 

SCENES  FROM  COUNTRY  LIFE 
{Scenes  de  la  Vie  de  Champagne) 

BOOK    30. 
THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR,  Le  Medecin  de  Campagne. 

BOOK    31. 
THE  COUNTRY  PARSON.  Le  Cure  de  Village. 

*  Though  not  included  until  after  the  author's  death,  its  exact  position  bad  been  pre- 
viously indicated. 


INDEX 


40ft 


THE  PEASANTRY, 


BOOK    32. 

Les  Paysans. 


THE  MAGIC  SKIN, 


PHILOSOPHICAL    STUDIES 
(Etudes  Philosophiques) 

BOOK    33. 

La  Peau  de  Chagrin. 


BOOK  34. 

THE  'QUEST  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE.          La  Recherche  de  VAbsolu. 
Christ  in  Flanders,  Jesus-Christ  en  Flandre. 

Melmoth  Reconciled,  Melmoth  Reconcilie. 

The  Unknown  Masterpiece,  Le  Chef-d'oeuvre  Iv^onnu. 


THE  HATED  SON, 
Gambara, 
Massimilla  Doni, 


THE  MABANAS, 
Farewell, 
The  Conscript, 
El  Verdugo, 
A  Seaside  Tragedy, 
The  Red  Inn, 
The  Elixir  of  Life, 
Maitre  Cornelius, 


BOOK    35. 

L'Enfant  Maudit. 
Gambara. 
Massimilla  Doni. 

BOOK    36. 

Les  Marana. 

Adieu. 

Le  Rcguisitionnaire. 

El  Verdugo. 

Un  Drame  au  Bord  de  la  Mer. 

L'Auberge  Rouge. 

L'Elixir  de  Longue  Vie. 

Maitre  Cornelius. 


BOOK    37. 

ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE  MEDICI:  Sur  Catherine  de  Mcdicis: 

The  Calvinist  Martyr,  Le   Martyr   Calviniste, 


410  COMEDIE  HUMAINE 

The  Ruggieri's  Secret,  La  Confidence  des  Ruggieri. 

The  Two  Dreams,  Les  Delta:  Reves. 

BOOK  38. 

Louis  LAMBERT,  Louis  Lambert. 

The  Exiles,  Les  Proscrits. 

Seraphita,  Seraphita. 

ANALYTICAL  STUDIES. 

BOOK  39. 
THE  PHYSIOLOGY  OF  MARRIAGE,        Physiologic  du  Mariage. 

BOOK  40. 

PETTY  TROUBLES  OF  MARRIED          Petite  Miseres  de  la,  Vie 
LIFE,  Conjugate. 

The  above  list  comprises  the  entire  Human  Comedy,  but  in  addi- 
tion to  the  same  there  are  included  in  this  New  Saintsbury  Balzac: 

I.     THE  DRAMAS   (2  volumes). 

VAUTRIIT,  Vautrin. 

QUINOLA'S  RESOURCES,  Les  Ressources  de  Quinola. 

THE  STEP-MOTHER,  La  Maratre. 

MERCADET,  Mercadet. 

PAMELA  GIRAUD,  Pamela  Giraud. 

II.     A  REPERTORY  OF  THE  HUMAN  COMEDY  (1  volume). 

In  which  the  various  appearances  of  the  personages  in  the  novels 
are  reduced  to  a  biographical  dictionary. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  095  278     8 


